New Romantics
by Lapis Love
Summary: "He had no clue of his effect on me and I worked overtime to keep it under wraps. He could never learn the depth of my thirst until I was ready for him to travel down my unchartered secrets." Bonnie Bennett wants her roommate Stefan Salvatore but does he want her? AH/AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: You totally have Paulerina at SDCC to blame for this. This is my 50** **th** **story so I'm proud of that, but overwhelmed by the various WIP's I already have in circulation. But it's cool. The more the merrier. This story is AH/AU told in 1** **st** **person just a fair warning. This will be explicit throughout and I don't have a main plot at the moment, and I probably won't have one. We'll see. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **||Prologue||**

Wet. I'm wet. Can't lie and why _should_ I lie? The state of my wetness had nothing to do with stepping out of the shower or dipping into a pool. This wetness derived from a place I liked to call the center of civilization. There were about a million and one different metaphors for the place I'm describing, and they'd all fit, but it wouldn't come close to illustrating what I want to do with it, or _wished_ someone would do with it.

If you're so inclined to know the cause of my predicament I could sum it up in as few words as possible. _Dick_. That was easy. If you were looking for a more detailed and dignified answer that brought up the great philosophers who spent hours questioning if they existed, then let me apologize. I'm pretty sure I just came off as having a one-track mind and there's no shame in my game to admit at times I am consumed by certain thoughts, driven by an innate need to screw and get laid. Would it be a fair assessment to say it happened to us at all some point?

The crux of the problem extended to circumstances well beyond my control. I am a woman with a certain set of needs that I would like and preferred to be met within a specific timetable, but that wasn't always possible. My life came with the requisite stressors as the next person breathing harshly while inching along in bumper-to-bumper traffic. My moods fluctuated based on others stupidity or competency, but overall I considered myself to be a fairly happy and content person.

Yet there was always room for improvement, a room for more. I did what I could to never toe the line of being satisfied and being greedy. I was one or the other, interchangeable night or day.

But back to my point.

My fingers were itching for a touch of him, my lips burned for a kiss. It seemed his stare could determine the pace of my heart, and whenever he licked his lips my clit jumped in response as if he beamed that particular action right between the swell of my thighs. He had no clue of his effect on me and I worked overtime to keep it under wraps. He could never learn the depth of my thirst until _I_ was ready for him to travel down my unchartered secrets.

Who was this man? Curious?

His name is Stefan Salvatore and…he's my roommate.

"Which tie?"

My head whipped in Stefan's direction. He was shirtless, jogging pants barely hanging on to his hip bones. Swiftly my eyes dripped below the elastic band of those pants to cop a look at his bulge. Impressive. So was his chest. Stefan had stopped being shy being half-naked around me after a successful year of living together, and keeping things from becoming awkward. He freely walked around our apartment in the dead of winter or in the sweltering heat of summer in next to nothing, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

Pardon me, but I forgot to mention he had the "V", the V ladies, the V!

I inhaled and clenched the makeup brush tighter in my grip. The both of us were going out on respective dates. He was going out with a woman from his job, and I was going out with a guy I totally wasn't interested in but it was a free meal. What?

Relationship columnists had to eat, too.

I examined the ties in his hands. One was a plain black skinny tie; the other was navy blue silk with white stripes.

"Go with black. You don't want her to feel like you're about to head to the office. Wait. Why are you wearing a tie anyways?"

Stefan rolled his eyes and drilled his toned shoulder into the doorjamb. "I'm being dragged to an art opening. One of Amber's friends from college."

"Doesn't sound like you need to wear a tie for that."

"No, but we're supposed to be going to this five-star restaurant afterwards to celebrate."

"And I'm sure by the time you're finished it'll be too late for anyone to give a damn if you're wearing a proper tie and dinner jacket," I turned back to face the mirror to finish constructing my 'I don't feel like fucking with you face'. Minimal makeup and boring hair.

"Amber is all about appearances."

Why were we debating this? nearly fell from my lips. I had been informed through various conversations that made my resentment dig a big deeper in the pit of my stomach, that Stefan liked Amber and liked screwing Amber, but really didn't see their 'relationship' transcending beyond the scope of casualness. My case was nearly similar only I wasn't actively fucking the guy I was going out with. This made me question why we put so much effort into people we didn't want to carve a future with.

Staving off loneliness will make you do terribly stupid things.

"Stefan," I sighed. "Do what you want? You're a grown man. Amber isn't your lady, and she doesn't pay your bills. Besides," I looked at my roommate again, "I doubt she's going to send you home because she's probably gushed to her friends about the 'totally great guy I'm seeing'," I did a poor imitation of Amber's voice. "And she wants them to meet you."

Truth be told, I've only met the chick twice. She seemed cool, but everyone seemed cool in the beginning because they wanted to be liked. And, I'm sure she wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea the guy she liked lived with someone who shared the same parts as her.

Tough.

Amber wouldn't mess up her chances of effectively cementing herself in Stefan's life by telling him what to wear, and coping an attitude if my name was ever brought up in conversation. I'm sure once she felt she had enough of a hold on him, things would change. Until then, no one had successfully penetrated our bubble.

Stefan's eyebrows lifted up and down and he briefly stared at his feet. With him partially distracted, I drank in every inch of his toned olive skin. He was _cut._ Lean where he needed to be, sinewy muscles that lacy underwear wouldn't stand a chance against as his bare hands ripped them to shreds. His face…Stefan had a face that painters, sculptors, sketch artists would come to blows to immortalize on a canvas. Strong jawline, straight aristocratic nose, deep-set greenish-gray eyes. He could make you fall in love by doing something as innocuous as breathing, and you'd find yourself being irrationally jealous of the air that filled his lungs because it was _in_ him while you weren't.

I hated him sometimes.

"You're right."

His voice snapped me out of my haze.

"No tie and definitely no sports jacket," Stefan pushed away from the threshold, tracked into my room and came to stand behind me.

I was in my robe, naked underneath, and willed my nipples not to get hard. My vanity mirror cut Stefan off at the neck so all I could see was his torso damn near pressed up against my back. He leaned down bringing his cheek to mine.

Stefan had showered. I smelled his soap and cologne, mouth watered, eyes almost fluttered. But I held it together. He could never know my secret. We were friends long before we decided to live together. He's seen me shitfaced drunk, sat with me through a pregnancy scare, held my hand during my grandfather's funeral. Stefan was more than the guy I wanted to be my scratching post. He was so much more, and what I wanted I buried because there was a chance he didn't want me in that light. Not even sexually. I was usually brave when going after who or what I wanted, but taking a chance, throwing caution to the wind where he was concerned…I couldn't take the risk.

Stefan brought a hand up and brushed it through my hair. Inwardly, my muscles tensed at his caress, ripples splintered everywhere. It was ridiculous my hair was an erogenous zone but only when Stefan touched it, which he did often enough.

"Where are you going tonight?"

His voice sounded coarse like it pained him to ask me, or maybe that was my imagination? Wishful thinking? Sometimes I'd parade guys in front of him to see if he'd have any kind of jealous reaction. Nothing.

Shrugging, I reached for my tube of lipstick. Dark colors scared Godric—my date, who was as straitlaced as they came. Dark colors suggested hypersexuality or dabbling in witchcraft in his conservative mind. Godric was sweet, don't get me wrong, but had a limited tolerance when it came to self-expression.

He came from a long line of judges, lawyers, and politicians. Image was everything.

"Godric will probably take me where he always takes me when we go out." I bit into my lip when Stefan's hand smoothed down to my shoulder. It was like he was spreading fire wherever he touched me.

His brow scrunched and his lips pulled down at the corners. "Godric is a pussy. I don't see why you continue to entertain him."

I snickered and began lining my lips in plum lipstick. "He might be a pussy but he treats me like a lady."

"So are you trying to say he's never made a move on you?"

Like what you're doing? "We've kissed."

"Was it terrible?"

"It wasn't earth shattering."

Stefan snorted and that curious hand of his reversed and then cupped my neck, his thumb rubbed circles at my nape.

"You're distracting me," I said.

"Sorry," Stefan dropped his hand but he didn't take a step back. He eyed me while I put on my lipstick and of course I drew out the action. "I like that color on you, but I'm not sure if Mr. GOP will."

Capping the lipstick, I brazened a smile. "That's why I'm wearing it. To discourage him."

My roommate shook his head. "I don't get you, Bonnie."

"You know that's not true."

"You go out with a guy who is the complete antithesis of what you usually go for," Stefan lowered his frame until he rested on his haunches. "I know he doesn't make your kitty sing."

He was too low for me to elbow him, and hearing Stefan talk about my kitty wasn't helping in preventing her from drooling. "I could, in a weird way, be turned on by Godric."

Stefan cocked a lopsided grin. "I doubt that. If a guy turns you on but you don't want to give it up, I usually hear your B.O.B."

I could be mortified by Stefan bringing up my battery-operated-boyfriend, but it made me wonder what _he_ did on the nights he heard it going off.

"Dude, filter," I complained.

Chuckling, Stefan rose to his feet.

"I have a question for you," I swiveled on the vanity seat to face him, which was a mistake because it put me at eye-level with his package, yet I didn't take the bait by staring at it. Though I very much wanted to.

Stefan stared down at me, placed his hands on his hips, and had the audacity to wet his bottom lip with his tongue.

There went that zing again that flicked my clit. Ten fingernails sunk into my kneecaps as I got a hold of myself.

"What's your question, Bonnie Bennett?"

"Are you coming home tonight?"

Suspicion clouded his eyes. "Why? I know you're not thinking about bringing Godric back here?"

"Just answer the question, Stefan."

"I don't know. Why?"

"I just wanted to know if I need to wear my noise-cancelling headphones tonight."

That hand of his with the veins that crisscross over the back cupped my face. "I doubt they'd make much difference," he replied cockily and then shuffled toward the door, whistling.

I really wanted to stab him. Stefan popped his head around the corner. I stared at him expectantly.

"Why don't you and Godric come with us tonight? The only person I'm gonna know at the art opening is Amber and…you should come."

A double date? My fingers strummed the vanity top as I contemplated Stefan's suggestion. Godric could bore a nun to tears and eating a free cuisine meal didn't seem to be a fair trade off. However, did I want to witness Stefan, my roommate, the guy I was crushing on be lovey-dovey and affectionate with the girl he was banging?

There were worse ways to spend a Friday night. Like in jail or in a morge.

"Do you think Amber will mind?"

Stefan shrugged. "Probably, but the main objective is for her to show me off like you said. She'll get over it."

"I don't need her coming at me sideways, Stefan because you know what I will be forced to do. If you like this chick I don't want to have to hurt her feelings."

Stefan laughed. "If Amber has any complaints I have the perfect way of settling her grievances. Plus, I think it's time you two hung out."

Ugh why? The only time a guy wanted you to start hanging out with the girl he was seeing was when it was becoming serious. However, this would give me the perfect opportunity to size up Amber, see what advantage, if any, she held over Stefan.

I grabbed my cell. "I'll call Godric and tell him there's been a change in plans."

Stefan beamed and winked at me, and like a silly school girl I blushed slightly. "I owe you."

You can give me an orgasm and call it even. "I'm sure I'll think of some way you can repay me."

Stefan's smile melted straight off his face like wax held too closely to a flame. "That sounds ominous."

"For you it probably will be. Go cover up your nipples. We'll have to leave soon, right?"

"Yes, and might I make a suggestion?"

"You can doesn't mean I'll listen."

"Wear your hair down."

I blinked at Stefan owlishly wondering at his suggestion, at his angle. He very rarely gave me fashion tips.

"Why?"

His face became serious, and his eyes darkened. "Paired with your dark lipstick…you look bad as fuck."

A smile split my face. "Hair down it is."

Stefan disappeared and I stretched my arms above my head. Perhaps I was closer to my goal than I realized.

Only one way to find out…

 **A/N: Sooooo? We likey? More? Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The masses have spoken. Thank you for the reviews, the faves, the alerts! XOXO!**

* * *

With a dress that barely covered my ass, sheer long sleeves and a peek-a-boo cutout in the front I was determined to set off some pacemakers. I had that delicious moment of victory having caught Stefan's eyes widen and his mouth plop open marginally when I stepped out of my bedroom and joined him for a shot of rum in the kitchen. He cooled his features and affected an insouciant attitude like he was dealing with his baby sister and not a woman he'd ogle in a darkened nightclub.

"You look nice, dapper," I complimented.

Stefan had draped his torso in midnight blue Oxford cotton with a soft sheen, shirttails tucked into his belted tailored slacks. Shoes polished, hair perfectly styled in his usual pompadour. Stefan had forgone wearing a tie.

"I think you want someone to go jail tonight for lewd and lascivious conduct."

Possibly.

"So long as it's not me," I winked. Stefan shook his head.

We toasted to a night of not remembering what we did come morning, downed our shots, winced, and wedged lime slices between our lips. I fixed my lipstick and popped a mint. The doorbell rung, Stefan answered. Godric stood on the welcome mat with a practiced smile, a fresh bouquet in his hands. White roses for a virtuous woman. I wasn't dressed so virtuously.

I could tell by the strain around his dark green eyes he wasn't as happy as he tried to appear to be when I called him up and told him of our change in venue. Godric was anal about that sort of thing. He kept several mental itineraries going at once, and if there was the slightest change, he freaked out, and behaved as if everything on his plate had to be rearranged to accommodate the modification.

Spontaneity was a word lodged somewhere in the dictionary to Godric.

Stefan made a face at the back of Godric's head after inviting him into our apartment. I stifled a laugh. Our District of Columbia dwelling was about the size of Godric's closet at his family estate in Potomac, Maryland. But whatever. Godric may never have to technically work a day in his life, but he didn't mind rolling up his sleeves and shoveling dirt.

I could grudgingly admire that about the Republican.

"Bonnie," Godric crossed over to me but faltered a bit when he got a good look at me. His eyes roamed up, they roamed down, they roamed round and round, and his finger hooked into the knot of his tie and pulled. "Wow."

I struck a pose turning to the side so he could get the full effect of my hourglass shape. "You like?"

"I…do…but umm…do you think that's appropriate attire? We're going to an art viewing, not a club."

Outwardly I sighed. Godric, Mr. Play-By-The-Rules, Mr. Stick-Lodged-Up-His-Ass. Mr. Gonna-Be-Our-Of-A-Date if he didn't stop looking like he wanted to usher me back to my room and handpick something for me to change into.

"I think she looks great," Stefan chimed in and leaned against the counter. "Art equals expression, and what she's wearing is an expression of how she's feeling and Bonnie is feeling…" my roomie tilted his head and gave me a long, thorough measure. "Unadulterated."

Did Stefan have to sound so sexy saying that when I knew he was only saying it to get a rise out of Godric who was frowning petulantly?

Nevertheless, he hit the nail right on top of its flat head.

Godric dismissed Stefan by turning his narrowed-eyed gaze on me. If he thought I would scamper off, do his bidding, and put on something frumpy in the off-chance we were photographed he thought wrong. Godric was an equal opportunity dater, but at the same time the women he wined and dined came with a certain level of poise and breeding. I didn't go to finishing school. Public schools and a state-run college was where I received my higher learning that I was still making payments on. Hell, the day we met I was wearing high-waist cutoff shorts, Jordans, and a ribbed tank top with visible bra straps—ooh the horror! His ass still asked me out anyways.

"We both know it will take me another half hour to find something else and change. This is what I'm wearing. Let's go."

Godric's cheeks reddened yet he conceded. He handed me the floral arrangement that I took a brief sniff off and kissed my cheek. "You do look amazing," he whispered in my ear and lightly gripped my hip.

I felt nothing from his touch. Godric was good-looking in an academic way. Polos and khakis pretty much made up his daily wardrobe that he traded in for tailored $2000 suits when there was an event his presence was needed. Otherwise he flew under the radar, the kind of handsome you had to spend time with in order to see that he had nice features you wouldn't mind gelling your DNA with.

Placing the bouquet in the fridge since I didn't have time to hunt down a vase, clean it out, and fill it with water, I grabbed my clutch.

"Let's go, guys."

Godric had offered to drive to the event. Amber would be meeting us there. I asked Stefan what did she say when he told her that Godric and I would be joining them. He looked at me drolly and reiterated:

"She'll get over it."

We flounced out of the apartment and into the warm, dull air of Northeast DC. It was the middle of May and it had finally gotten hot enough to ditch the long sleeves, parkas, and boots. The weekend before, Stefan and I had gone down to the Tidal Basin to partake of the Cherry Blossom festival. We took pictures under branches of fluffy, light pink flower petals, sat down on a bench, and ate hotdogs while staring at the Thomas Jefferson memorial.

Unbeknownst to me, mustard caked itself on the corner of my mouth that Stefan wiped clean with his thumb. And instead of wiping his thumb off with a napkin, he stuck it in his mouth and stared at me while he licked the tangy sauce away.

Either he knew what he was doing or he was very good at being aloof.

A hand lightly touched the small of my back as the three of us descended the stairs to the sidewalk. The touch burned me through the flimsy layer of cloth and I knew right away who that hand belonged to.

I checked over my shoulder just to be sure, and saw Stefan walking in step beside me as we made the short trek to Godric's Audi.

There was much I knew about Stefan. I knew he was a _very_ hands on guy. When he liked you, you knew because he'd find any and every excuse in the book to touch you. However, Stefan had a friendly side where his affection poured out of him through the occasional hand grab, hug, caress and it didn't mean anything more to him than being, and you guessed it, friendly.

He could be perplexing or I was adding layers of meaning to something simply because I wanted the 'D'.

"I have her from here," Godric intervened and, in an uncommon display of territorialism, he shouldered past my roommate, grabbed my hand, and opened the passenger side door for me.

Stefan snorted and climbed into the back. I buckled up and spied the troublemaker through the side view mirror fighting to keep the smile off his face.

Godric checked his mirrors about a million times before pulling into traffic and actually drove the speed limit.

The alert for an incoming text message sounded. I pulled the device out of my clutch and rolled my eyes. It was Stefan.

 **Having fun?**

 **What do you think?**

 **Can you tell him to turn on the music or something? I'm bored back here.**

 **Why don't U open ur mouth and ask?**

 **I actually don't like wasting words on Godric.**

Stefan and I shared that same problem.

Fifteen minutes, a twenty dollar surcharge for parking later, the three of us made it to a nondescript art studio in Chinatown. Amber was there craning her head up and down the block and when she spotted Stefan she beamed, and waved wildly. The second she noticed me and commenced a quick scan of my attire, her smile dulled considerably.

She ignored Godric altogether, which sadly I had forgotten he was walking beside us as well. The streets were filled with the restless and tourists so it was fairly easy to get separated. The whole time we headed on foot to the studio, my pinky had been linked with Stefan's. I couldn't help but be aware of him.

Yet my little digit began to feel the burr of the cold when Stefan broke away, lightly jogged to Amber where he wrapped her up in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet. She squealed and playfully admonished him, but her clear blue eyes sparkled, and her cheeks burned a light pink. Amber puckered up her lips for a kiss that Stefan obliged. Godric saw that as an invitation to wrap his arm around my waist and I almost stole him in his chest for touching me unexpectedly.

Stefan drew Amber forward, holding her hand. I kept my gaze plastered on him, gauging his facial nuances. As much as it made me want to vomit, Stefan was genuinely happy to see Amber. His jaw was relaxed, forehead smoothed and even, demeanor more open and less guarded.

That noise I was hearing in my head was the sound of molars, my molars grinding on top of one another. Shit, he _liked_ her.

"Hey, Amber you remember my roommate Bonnie?"

Amber extended a hand, pageant girl smile in place. "Hi, nice to see you again. _Love_ your dress."

Lies. Her nostrils were a bit too flared to be sincere. "You too, Amber."

Amber was a passable beauty in salmon jersey that showed off an attractive figure. Her legs were longer than mine, not as curvy. She had a decent sized rack flirting with being a D cup while I was a modest 32 C. Her blonde hair fell in layers to the middle of her back, platinum highlights in the front that made her aqua irises pop. Amber was the kind of girl who already had a bumper sticker on her minivan that read: Soccer Mom of the Year. Despite picking this woman apart, I had to admit I envied Amber for the simple fact that no matter what she did patriarchy would be blamed for her shortcomings. Plus, she was with Stefan.

Should she be hated on that basis alone? If only I could say she was a bitch I might feel bad for coveting what probably took her no more than saying 'Hi I'm Amber' to achieve.

I climbed out of my head and held a hand out toward the guy standing to my left.

"This is my date, Godric Wainwright."

Amber shifted toward Godric and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," I heard an inflection in Godric's voice that he cleared his throat to cover up.

I gave him side-eye and inwardly shrugged.

"Well, the viewing has started and Jared has already sold two of his pieces," Amber informed and appeared she wanted to break out into a literal cheer.

She led the way inside the studio where the crowd sipped specialty drinks that matched the overall theme of the artist, Jared Malone's motif. Amber introduced us to the main attraction who was not at _all_ what I expected. He was Ivy League right down to his penny loafers. Granted, Jared's jeans were black as well as his short sleeve V-neck shirt that hugged his frame well. I easily pictured him sailing and playing polo with Princes William and Harry. A hardcore patron of Lacoste apparel.

Jared was brutally handsome in the 'can I touch you just to make sure you're real way'. He kind of reminded me of Damon, Stefan's older brother, but Jared had a dimple in his right cheek, a square face mired by a chin butt, and his eyes were charcoal grey. I cased the joint and saw several clusters of women and a quite a few men throwing him furtive, surreptitious looks, conversations clearly buzzing about him and not his art.

Out of my peripheral I saw Godric suck in his adorable pudgy belly.

Amber sunk her fingers between Stefan's, gushed as she rattled off both of the guys' stats to one another. He paints, he sings, he cooks. He plays guitar, is good with numbers, is the best thing to happen to me. I sat back, took meticulous notes, listened and discovered that Jared was Amber's best friend.

Sooner than expected, Amber dragged Stefan off to introduce him to her pride of sorority sisters donned in their colors, one blonde after another. Stefan glanced at me silently pleading with me to save him. I infinitesimally shook my head.

Live long and prosper, you are on your own, dude.

Jared and Godric attempted to make small talk which didn't take long for Jared to lose interest because, like I said, Godric could bore a nun to tears. He lost the man of the hour the minute he inquired if he caught this week's episode of _Meet the Press_.

"Oh, excuse me, I see someone I know," Godric interrupted his own diatribe. He tossed me an apologetic look. "I'll be right back," kissed my hand and wandered off.

Jared and I sighed collectively, looked at one another and laughed. "You're seriously into that guy?" he hitched a thumb in Godric's direction.

The bluntness of the question kind of made me back up and look at him sideways, but I wasn't truly offended. "He takes some getting used to, but he has stellar qualities."

Jared snickered and I waited for his eyes to drop below my neckline. He had been respectful, holding my gaze while we traded niceties. He didn't look, which intrigued me and kind of annoyed me as well. I knew I looked good enough for more than a cursory perusal.

"I'm sure he does," Jared said. "They say opposites attract."

"And Godric and I couldn't be more opposite if you tried pairing polka dots with stripes."

A bellow of male laughter tickled my ears and I had to say I liked the sound. The wetness problem between my legs had diminished some, but I felt it creeping along, rising to the surface like lava. Others were hovering along the periphery waiting for their face time with Jared, but I wasn't quite ready to graciously bow out and let him conduct business. The greedy, horny bitch inside me still needed that taste of validation that I could have him if I so wanted to, he just needed to put out the signal.

Jared bit into his lip once his laughter subsided and _finally_ felt me up with his eyes. I pretended not to notice.

"So how long has Amber and Stefan been a thing?" he probed indifferently. Or tried to. His jaw hardened and I was sure Jared already knew the answer to his question.

But…the wheels in my mind began turning. This could work in my favor.

"For a few months," I replied.

"Is it serious?"

I shrugged. "They like each other. That's about all I can say. You and Amber have been friends for…?"

"Since we were kids. Our parents went to high school and college together. They like to refer to themselves as quadruplets."

I chuckled a bit. "I'm sure they had hopes that maybe their children might complete the set and you all could become sextuplets," purposely leading in into dangerous territory.

Jared didn't answer. He didn't need to speak a word because he directed his full attention across the studio to Amber who was rubbing her hand up and down Stefan's back. Jared and Amber together would be perfect, perhaps _too_ perfect and that probably explained why she chose to remain oblivious to the fact her best friend was head-over-heels in love with her. He couldn't contain that tsunami as hard as he was gawking at his best friend.

I caught myself staring at Stefan just as longingly and cut it out before Jared or anyone else could call me out on it. I wasn't in love with my roommate, per se. I had "feelings" for Stefan that led straight to my bedroom or his, and afterwards I wouldn't be adverse to those feelings leading their way there multiple times.

Jared forced himself to look away. "She's a rare find, I can vouch for that."

"What, the world has suddenly grown a shortage of blonde-haired, blue-eyed women?" I teased.

"I…mean she's honest, funny, and she's…"

"The rest of us are liars with no sense of humor?"

"I feel like you're making fun of me."

"Because I am, Jared." For two people just meeting each other our rapport was surprisingly natural. I didn't feel odd or that I had to be accommodating to appear interested in what he had to say. I just was.

The artisan peered down at me, and I felt a shift. Like a carnivore making a conscious decision to hunt another prey. He grinned then. "I see I'll need to watch myself around you."

"Possibly," I skirted around Jared. It was best to leave now, leave a little something on the table; a deposit for him to either carry out whatever nefarious thought traipsed through his head, or write the whole thing off as the act of flirtation it was that would go absolutely nowhere. "I'm going to go and check out your art. See if you're any good."

"I can tell you right now, your mind will be blown."

"Hmm, I like a man with confidence."

Jared grinned and winked.

Abandoned by my date and roommate I strolled through the exhibit, stopping to admire some pieces here and there. Art wasn't my thing, but I did have an appreciation for an artist who could make something that should be depressing seem like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Godric found me and profusely apologized. "Are you getting famished? We're about an hour late for dinner."

"I could eat."

"I'll get the car. Are your _roommate_ and his date coming with us?"

"I don't know. I can ask."

Godric opened his mouth to argue but shook his head and wandered off to get his car. I pulled out my phone to text Stefan.

Jared popped up behind me. "Verdict."

I swung around to face him. "You have some interesting pieces and you're very good at shading. My favorite piece was the one titled _She Is Here._ "

Even in the dim lighting in the back of the gallery, Jared's eyes glittered. "That's my favorite piece, too though I try not to have favorites. All my works I like to think of them as my babies."

That was kind of cute.

"What made you get into art?"

"My godmother. She's a painter."

I nodded yet refrained from asking her name because I didn't know painters like that, and probably wouldn't know who she was if he told me, or showed me some of her stuff.

"Well, I'm sure she's proud of you, Jared."

He turned rueful then but held out his hand. I stared at it confusedly. "Your phone."

"Why do you want my phone?"

"So I can plug my number into it."

"Real subtle."

"Are we going to pretend you're not interested?" Jared arched a dark brow.

Are we going to pretend you don't have a bleeding heart for the girl my roommate is fucking that you've been thirsting for since y'all were in diapers? If this didn't have catastrophe written all over it.

Fuck it, I coughed up the phone. Jared typed his number into it. I doubted I would use it, but options, like air, was priceless.

"Bonnie?" Stefan barked my name.

His brusque call made me jump and my heart to beat guiltily in my ribcage. Jared bowed out, leaving Stefan and I alone.

"What are you doing?" Stefan's jaw was set, he squinted at me.

"I was enjoying the exhibit like we came here to do."

A moment or two passed before he said anything else. "I asked Amber if she wanted to have dinner with you and Godric, but she rather go with her sorority sisters to this bar."

"So where do you fall into the scheme of things?"

"I don't need to relive the horrors of rush week. I say," and for some strange reason, Stefan stepped closer to me, "we ditch dough boy, order take out, and watch Netflix."

Sounded like heaven. I was already calling Godric before my mind caught up to what the rest of my body was doing. Godric hated bars, clubs, anyplace that meant sweaty bodies would be pressed together indecently while "obscene" music blasted at intolerable decibels.

I was fairly sure this dude was a closet sadist.

"Hey Godric…"

"I'm out front. Come on out."

"Change of plans again."

" _Bonnie_ ," Godric whined. Stefan snickered.

"Stefan, Amber and I want to go to this bar."

Godric was quiet. He sighed. "I really don't like bars and with the way you're dressed…I don't think it would be a good idea for you to go. You should come with me to dinner. We've barely seen one another tonight, and I've missed you."

"Aww," Stefan sighed and batted his eyelashes. I shoved him.

"You were the one who had to talk shop with someone you knew. But I'll make it up to you, I promise," shaking my head back and forth.

"That's what you said the last time you cancelled our plans. This is a very stressful time for me, Bonnie…"

Stefan grabbed my phone and hung up. I gaped at him.

"Was that necessary?"

"Yes," my roommate replied and tucked my phone into his pants. If he thought I wouldn't reach in his pocket to get it, he had another thing coming. "As annoyed Godric can make you he also has the uncanny ability to soften you and get you to relent so he can get his way. You have your bitchy moments but this," and Stefan poked me right above my heart, not quite touching my breast. "Is too big for its own good at times."

My phone started ringing. Stefan and I ignored it.

"Are we going home, Bonnie?"

The ringing continued and I knew it wouldn't be long before Godric stormed into the gallery looking for me.

The ringing stopped.

"Tell Amber goodnight."

"I already did."

"Then what are we still looming in this darkened corridor for?"

Stefan and I headed out. I spotted Jared standing in the midst of a crowd. Our eyes didn't meet, and that was just as well. Fingers wormed their way on my hip and heat fanned everywhere like a spilled drink.

We left the gallery by a side door, avoiding the main entrance in case Godric was double parked outside. We walked to the nearest metro station.

"You're a bad girl," Stefan shook his head like it was a travesty.

"What are you talking about?"

"Arriving on the arm of one guy, getting the digits of another, and leaving with someone else."

"That doesn't make me a bad girl. It makes me a crafty _woman_. I'm skilled at what I do, Stefan. You'll never see me coming until it's too late."

"You won't ever get the jump on me."

I pursed my lips but didn't comment. We'll see.

 **A/N: More? Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey peeps. Y'all are the . This chapter is told exclusively from Stefan's POV, which I'm nervous about. I haven't decided if I'll be alternating POV's, but when I feel Stefan needs to give a testimony, I'll deliver it. Thank you for reading! Enjoy! *Graphic language ahead; you've been warned***

|| **Stefan||**

That moment of release, that moment of rhapsody my jaw unhinged, jutted out failing to keep the base part of myself contained. My back arched, furrowed brow slackened as my eyes burst open. A guttural roar spilled from my wide open mouth as I spilled my seed into her.

Body freezing from the chest up, it was an inferno beginning from my hipbone on down, right to the tips of my toes. I was embedded balls deep in the wettest pouch I ever had the privilege of being in, swimming in a sea of contracting elastic muscles that wrapped around my cock and squeezed for dear life. There was no escaping.

Lungs screaming for oxygen, sweat dripping, I, Stefan Salvatore came undone.

Soft, sultry laughter tickled my eardrums. I looked at her then, her glossy hair matted to her equally slick skin, lips parted, nostrils slightly flared. Deliberately she contracted her inner muscles, squeezing me—a wet vice around my dick, making me groan and jolt up from the table. Damn, we had sex on a table. I was depleted. There was nothing left except memories I wanted to relive again. But my dog was down for the count. Could feel the blood oozing out of me, flowing back to my heart and other organs—softening. However, that come hither, I'm-not-done-with-you-yet look in her eyes hardened me again.

Impossible.

"Have fucking mercy," I pleaded and sunk my fingers between hers, linking our hands together.

"Mercy? I don't know that word."

My laughter lacked humor and energy and those good ole eyelids desperately wanted to shut as the rest of my body craved to follow. Sleep was calling but it paled in comparison to the woman sitting astride me naked as the day she was born.

Greedily I drank in her appearance. Perfect breasts that filled my hands, dark nipples that responded to my touch and mouth, flat stomach, trim waistline, those powerful thighs, and those killer legs—though short were a wonder of their own. Sculpted calves I couldn't get enough of admiring from afar and up close.

But it was that face, though. A face that was both innocent and seductive simultaneously, like a Botticelli painting. A face like Bonnie Bennett's. Oh god I'm having a sex dream about Bonnie Bennett. My roommate.

I jackknifed upright in bed very much aware of the fact I was granite hard, erection straining the cotton weave fibers of my boxers. Confusedly, I looked around my bedroom to make sure I was actually sleeping in my bed, and hadn't done anything incredibly stupid. Like fuck my roommate. I was alone, horny, heart pounding, and frustrated. Not a good way to start a morning. Rapidly I began firing questions at myself demanding to know why I was having a sex dream about Bonnie—a friend, practically a sister to me. I should feel wrong about that, disgusted at myself. Strangely…I wasn't.

It's been two weeks. I needed to get laid. Clearly.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I planted my feet on the floor at the same time my bedroom door flew open.

I quickly tossed the sheet over my lap.

Bonnie, fully clothed, leaned against the doorjamb and sipped her coffee. A corner of her eye crinkled as she observed me with my hair sticking up every which way, a feat because my hair never moved.

Innocent face on I waited for her to say whatever she had to say, but she watched me over the rim of her mug and fear gnawed inside of me that she'd figure out what I dreamt about—more specifically that I dreamt about _her._

We had been friends for what seemed like forever, six years, and I would be the first to raise both hands and say she was beautiful, sexy as fuck. I'd be a liar if I said temptation hadn't poked me on the shoulder, but Bonnie was my best friend. Off limits.

Willing my erection to go away was taking a bit more brain power, what with the star of my dreams standing in the threshold and all, her perfume wafting to my nose. "What is it?"

"You overslept."

"Thanks for waking me up," I snarked.

Bonnie smirked. "You're flushed. Good dream?" one of her perfect eyebrows rose.

"It was a nightmare."

"Liar."

Touché.

Her lips were dark again today. Must be a sign of something because she typically reserved the dark, bold colors for when she was on the prowl. It was…I peeped the time. It was eighteen minutes after seven on a Monday. Fucking Mondays. Anyways, Bonnie worked from home most days so I wondered who she was meeting up with. A breakfast date? Did those even exist?

I did what I could to sound casual. "Where are you headed off to?"

"I have a meet-and-greet down at GWU. My editor wants me to narc on the private lives of tenured professors," she scoffed and chased a drop of coffee on her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. Did not help with my hard on. "As if they'll open up to a complete stranger. Then again everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame."

I nodded and shot daggers at her to go away so I could either take care of my issue, or scare it off with cold water.

Bonnie sauntered inside my bedroom and plopped down next to me, handed me her mug. I accepted it and placed my lips on top of the lipstick stain marring the edge, drank. Perfectly blended mocha flavored caffeine.

"Better?" she asked.

"Nope," I passed the mug back.

"Have any plans tonight?"

"No. Amber isn't talking to me since I declined heading out to the bar with her sorority sisters the other night," I shrugged. "She didn't call or texted me at all or return my phone calls."

Bonnie snorted and sang, "You're in the doghouse."

"Probably."

I wouldn't be for long. Amber had a particular talent for sniffing out whenever I allowed outside distractions to distract me. Two days max of no communication was the limit. On day three, she'd pop up outside of my office with an invitation to grab lunch or take a coffee break where her hands would get missing in my pants, and she'd let me grope her come-on-me tits or between her legs to reel me back in, remind me she had a world-class mouth and knew what to do with it. I fell for it, hook, line, sinker and didn't feel any kind of shame because I liked her. She was easy to like.

Dinners, movies, drinks on U Street, watching live performers entertain crowds outside of metro centers, an after work mixer, happy hour at a grill while watching Sportscenter had been the sum total of our three and a half-month relationship. Couldn't forget about the sex. Five dates spaced evenly apart in four weeks and I slid my sausage into home base on our one month 'anniversary'.

Being with Amber was simple. I didn't have to _think_ about breathing, being witty, charming, or annihilating whatever stereotype she pegged me to fall under. She was a much welcomed change after being shoehorned to the most self-absorbed, wishy-washy, delusional woman on the planet whose name wasn't worth passing through my lips ever again.

Bonnie's arm brushed against mine, my skin pebbled. I stared at her. It was hard not to stare. Her pupils dilated, her mouth twitched, and she smelled fucking awesome.

"Do you have plans tonight?" I cleared my throat.

"I might get with the girls if they're available. We haven't had a ladies night in a while."

A lineup of her friends paraded through my mind. Accomplished women that liked drinking Shiraz and gush over shoes and how well-behaved or trifling their significant other was. They were an intimidating bunch. If you didn't have your shit together, you'd hear about it.

There was something else pressing on my brain (other than my massive erection). Whether or not to bring it up was the question and I didn't want Bonnie to read too much into it. Yet I never handled curiosity well. When I wanted answers I didn't stop poking, prodding, and rambling until I got them.

"Tell Tanya I'm still interested in seeing her naked." Bonnie shoved me. "Quick question…"

"Quick answer."

I playfully growled at her. Her smirk stretched wider. "Are you…gonna call that Jared guy?"

Bonnie slighted me with a look that I translated into: Stop pretending like you don't know his name. Of course I knew because Amber said it about a million times at his art show this past weekend. Every other word that traipsed out of her mouth had been: Jared this and Jared that and Jared is super this and Jared is super that and Jared is going to be best at this because he's already the best at that. If Amber was his PR person, give the woman a raise. But since they were friends her enthusiasm I couldn't find alarming. She was proud and let everyone know it.

What was I complaining about again? Or my point? Right, _Bonnie_ and Jared.

"Are you?" I pressed.

"I'm not sure. He's handsome and I'm fairly sure my vagina wouldn't mind sitting on his face," that was Bonnie. Blunt as hell. "But I don't know. I'll have to see. In a moment you can have an instant connection with someone, but is it real or just born out of the circumstance? Two strangers meeting, one of them literally putting his soul on display…would be a bit unnerving, leading him to potentially latch on to anyone who isn't outwardly, or aggressively coming on to him."

Never take this woman at face value. She could analyze the hidden meaning in practically anything leaving you viewing something from an angle you never pictured an angle to be.

"All right so you wouldn't mind boning him," I deduced and ignored that little niggling sensation in my knuckles to plant them somewhere fleshy, "yet you don't want to give it a shot because you don't believe he's honestly attracted to you?"

Had my intelligent roommate not seen her face or body for that matter?

"Or there could be another reason," she hinted ominously but wouldn't look at me.

"Another reason like what? You think he's a player?"

"Could be…only one way to find out, though. If a guy wants your pussy and only your pussy he'll go out of his way to get it. Doesn't mean he isn't out trolling for other pussy while waiting on yours."

All this talk about pussy. My hand almost started to rub my dick, but I stopped.

Friday when we made it home, ordered pizza, and burned though almost the entire season of _Daredevil,_ Bonnie and I parted ways at one in the morning. Thirst had driven me out of bed half an hour later and, walking past her door, I heard the sound of reggae music and soft moans. Bonnie only played reggae when her B.O.B was pulled out of hibernation.

I wondered who she had been thinking about. Let it go because it was none of my business. Now my brain was trying to fill in the blanks because of that stupid, albeit awesome dream.

My gaze drifted to Bonnie's hands. They were slender and before I could stop myself, I was running the back of my knuckle down her arm. She watched, said nothing, chest heaved up and down at its regulate beat. But I felt the hairs on her forearm rising. My fingers curled over hers, she squeezed mine in return.

It felt like heat was everywhere. Between us, over us, shrouding us. She was warm.

I said, "Unless you call him, _Bonnie_ , how will you know that it's _your_ and only _your_ pussy that he wants?" Don't think about your roommate's pussy, Stefan.

Bonnie seemed to mull over my words. "You're right. If I call, I'll call. If I don't then it's settled."

"Perhaps you should." Was I seriously encouraging this? I didn't have anything against Jared. It's just he was too heavily linked to Amber.

A dimple formed over Bonnie's left eyebrow.

"Godric?" I figured I'd just throw that out there.

"Who?" she winked. I laughed. "He called me last night and left me several messages. He's deeply hurt I ditched him. Said there were about a million other girls who'd love to go out with him. Where they are, I sure as hell don't know."

I let Bonnie's hand go. "Are you going to stop using him now for free meals?"

Bonnie bobbed her head, hair tickling her bare shoulders. She was wearing a mini dress in a bright turquoise color. Her feet were still bare. Cute toes.

My roommate caught me looking at her toes. I grinned, she rolled her eyes.

"As far as I'm concerned, Godric is history. Whether or not he'll accept the memo is to be determined. I need to go and you need to shower. There are delays on the red line, FYI."

I huffed. "That's nothing new. There are _always_ delays on the red line. Let me know when it's running on time for once. That'll be news."

Bonnie chuckled lightly, rose from the bed—ass in my face (my dick jumped), stretched her left arm above her head. "I'll see you later. Have a good day, Stefan."

"Stay out of trouble, Bonnie."

She wandered out of my room without a backwards glance, shutting the door behind her. I counted slowly, waited.

The door creaked open and Bonnie poked her head through. "Can I borrow twenty bucks and pay you back on Friday?"

"You know where my wallet is better than I do."

Bonnie grinned hugely. "Thank you, Stefan," the timbre of her voice deepened.

I cleared my throat, nodded, and waved her off. The door shut again and when I felt it was safe, I tossed off the bedsheet and rubbed the rigid length in my boxers. The head throbbed, little big dude was crying and I was right on the edge of crying with him.

Showered and attired in my worker bee threads, I rooted around the kitchen looking for something to eat. The lightbulb in the fridge was blinding and that's how Bonnie and I gauged it was time to go to the store. The bills were split evenly between us, but when either of us was running low on cash and it was time to hit the market, we'd pool our funds together and shop. When things were booming, we alternated. I believe it was her turn to go, but since Bonnie could survive on eating Ramen noodles for a week straight, it appeared shopping for food would land on my shoulders.

She was gone, the apartment quiet. Most mornings I'd hear her pecking away or jabbering on her cell, checking sources or haggling with her editor. When Bonnie was around there was constant noise because she was so energetic. I hated the quiet but relished it at times since most of my day was spent talking to others, talking to myself, or listening to people talk. Writing was something shared between us. Bonnie was the relationship guru columnist while I was the project manager at a small, yet respectable publication. I wrote for pleasure and what I wrote would never see the light of day.

Opening the freezer, I pulled out a box of Eggo's that was dangerously light. Score! There were two left. Awesome.

Powering on my laptop, I checked the major news for any stories while my waffles browned in the toaster. Minutes later, food ready, mouth ready I dumped my breakfast on a plate, grabbed the syrup and what was left of the OJ.

My tenacious roommate hadn't left the apartment like I assumed. She came rushing into the kitchen, tote bag on her arm, one Nike sneaker on her tiny foot, the other in her hand. She made a beeline for my waffles.

"Oh, you made me breakfast."

"I didn't. Hands off, woman," I held the plate aloft.

"Let me have a bite."

"Absolutely not."

"You're going to let me starve? Let my stomach do all the talking for me at this meet and greet? I thought we were better than that, Stefan."

Bonnie broke out the big guns and stuck out her bottom lip. I was defenseless against that bottom lip. Sighing in resignation, I cut her a perfect triangle of waffle swathed in syrup and fed it to her. She smiled while chewing and feeling generous I cut her another piece. Before I knew it she had swindled me out of an entire waffle.

"I hope you're happy," I grumbled.

Her lips pressed against my cheek and she smacked my ass. "I am. Thanks. See you."

The minute Bonnie flounced out of the apartment, my cell phone rang. I spied the caller before answering.

It was my mother.

"Hey mom," I stated warily. Lily Salvatore only ever called when she had bad news.

"Stefan I'm glad I was able to reach you. How are you, honey?"

She was throwing in an endearment, good Lord this was bad. "I'm fine for the most part. What's going on?"

My mother cleared her throat. "I-I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"I'm getting married."

Didn't know she was seeing anybody. Weird. A son should know if his mother was dating, right? Nevertheless, I guess I was sort of, kind of happy for her since my mom's last relationship was with my father whom she divorced ten years ago.

"That's great, mom. Congratulations."

"Ah…there's more."

I braced myself. "Okay."

"It's Enzo, sweetie."

I blinked once and a ringing noise bloomed in my ears. Enzo who used to be Damon's best friend Enzo? Enzo who's twenty-five years _younger_ than my mother Enzo? Enzo who slept with my college girlfriend on my birthday Enzo?

Are. You. Out. Of. Your. Gotdamn. Mind?

"Stefan… _please_ say something."

I did. "I have to get to work."

Click.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm so glad you guys liked reading from Stefan's POV. This chapter is told from Bonnie's but I'll probably be doing another chapter from Stefan's very shortly. Thank you and enjoy!**

* * *

 **||Bonnie||**

Hot. It had turned hot and muggy as the day progressed. The kind of hot where ice cubes on skin cooled you down, made your flesh jump. Riding the metro gave a reprieve from the sun but did little to alleviate the heat and humidity. It was stuffy and uncomfortable underground with hardly any fresh air circulating. There were about a billion people crammed on the platform jostling for a good spot to be one of the first on the train. It was a time were civility and chivalry went out the window, and being as small as I am, I had to be extra vigilant to make sure I wasn't shoved over the edge.

But it's quiet. Real quiet. One of the things I had to get used to was how quiet it could be in a hub where hundreds of thousands of people speed walked or ran to transfer to the next train. No time for conversation. Definitely no time to say hello. Barely any time to say excuse me for cutting someone off. It's the bustle and the rush. It's exciting and unfulfilling at the same time.

The connecting train I needed didn't have a lot of people waiting for it. It glided smoothly by, bringing with it a gush of hot air. The brakes squealed loudly, the door stopped right in front of me. Once it opened and those getting off got off, I climbed abroad eyeing a seat next to the door I'd need to exit through when my stop came.

Hard plastic kissed my ass but it beat standing up. Digging in my tote I pulled out the novella I had been reading for the last month. The main character was seriously working my nerves. I didn't begrudge anyone liberating themselves sexually, but whenever she caved to the demands of her boyfriend without addressing their issues, it irked me. And of course she became good at everything she tried after trying it once. Her lone insecurity you might wonder stemmed from developing later than every girl in her grade when she was younger. Wow, what a tragedy.

In a society where the young were impatient to grow up and the grown-ups wanted to hit the restart button, and go back to the womb, there were deeper issues out there the author could have chosen for her heroine to overcome. But I digress. Romance was a struggle enough on its own, meshing two personalities together in between real-life problems and ghosts from the past. We were all nuts and trying to find someone either on the same level of crazy as us, or less crazy than us to balance things out.

I moved my legs out of the way when the next load of passengers entered the train. Someone sat next to me. He smelled pretty good but I didn't look up to acknowledge him.

"Don't tell me you're seriously into those kinds of books."

My body went taut at the sound of a baritone timbre. _No fucking way!_ My eyes lifted from the page and first stared at the stained rust-brown carpet below my feet before inching over to the gentleman seated to my right.

Gray orbs drunk me in, piece by piece without leaving my face which was impressive. His obsidian hair was parted on the left, gelled, tamed. The style didn't make him nerdish, but like he should be starring in a movie opposite a young Marlon Brando. A plain white V-neck T-shirt stretched across his broad chest illustrating this man took exceptional care of his body. Gotdamn his biceps were bulging. Dark denim jeans hugged his legs, and he was wearing a classic pair of black and white Chucks that made him adorably hot.

A bitch was tongue tied. Do you know how many times I've run into someone on the street after meeting them once? Zip, zilch, nada. DC was hella small and most who commuted through the nation's capital lived in northern Virginia and almost every part of Maryland. So unless you worked in the same building even then chances were small you'd have a chance encounter with an acquaintance who was still a virtual stranger.

Jared Malone and I eye-fucked. Let's call a spade a spade. He liked the way my boobs filled out the sweetheart neckline mini dress I wore to the meet and greet, and I sure hell wasn't shy in letting him know I found his crotch enticingly interesting.

I remembered, vaguely, he made a comment that could have come off totally rude, but it was an awesome ice breaker I decided to have a little fun with.

"I do read these kinds of books. Mainly for the prose."

His lips twisted wryly. "Oh really? Let me see," Jared reached for the book and I forked it over. His fingers overlapped mine, we stared at each other.

Jared cleared his throat and started reading aloud. A mistake. His voice was like rough sex that left you sore and contemplating if you needed a wheelchair.

"'I was hot for him and he was hot for me. We were hot together. He made me cry tonight, but I didn't care about my tears. He was everything and I was nothing. He wanted me as I wanted him, and I could tell his dick concurred. Two hours had been too long, and I felt sick and weak but his cum was the antidote and the cure.' Gotdamn," Jared cricked his neck. "'I was helpless to his charisma and he smirked and knew he was let off the hook because his fatal beauty turned me into a mewling whore.' _Wow_ ," my train buddy concluded.

"That is Pulitizer Prize stuff right there," I grinned facetiously. Jared reciprocated the gesture and released the book back into my custody.

"At least she's self-aware, I guess." Pause. "You read that kind of stuff in public?"

"In public, private, family reunions, doctor's office, it really makes no difference to me."

"You're bold," he wiped his brow, averted his gaze.

I gave Jared a sidelong glance and noticed a very faint flush to his cheeks, and the tip of his ear was a telltale shade of red.

Smut turns you on, Jared? Was the heat of the train getting to you? Or were you envisioning a specific person saying that stuff about _you_?

Jared returned to staring at me, composed, perhaps even closed off. Armor in place. "You still have my number?"

"I do."

"Why haven't you used it?"

"It's only Monday."

"So you're into playing the waiting game?"

My eyes narrowed at the implication I was playing a game with him. A game as old as sex was. We've all done it. Held off in contacting someone despite how badly we wanted to talk to them, get to know everything there was to know in the shortest amount of time as possible. Yet we curbed our urges, suppressed them, put them in chains and threw away the key because we didn't want to come off as desperate, clingy peasants with no life.

"That's what you think I'm doing?" I asked.

Jared never wavered or blinked. He leaned forward, his shoulder touching my shoulder, his scent colonizing the cells in my lungs. If he was trying to intimidate me he'd have to try a bit harder to scare someone with balls as big as mine.

"I don't know."

Time to get random. "Do you remember the color of the dress I wore to your art exhibit?"

Jared finally blinked, but didn't lean away. I liked that. A lot. My shoulder was burning and it wasn't due to the pressure his was applying to mine, but for another reason altogether.

He smiled, confidently. His teeth were straight enamel soldiers, gums bubble gum pink, and I smelled a hint of mint and….gin on his breath. Had a quick happy hour drink? It was barely six o'clock.

"It was black with sheer sleeves."

"Give the man a prize."

"Give me a harder question to answer," he countered. "As if anyone could forget a dress like that."

Cheeks don't blush. They were blushing. I swallowed. "Do you remember my full name?"

"Including middle?"

I shook my head. "First and last will do."

Jared appeared to mull it over. He leaned back and my shoulder was cold suddenly. No, bring the heat back because it had been headed to place where he and I could smile if we worked together.

"Your name is…Bonnie Sheila Bennett."

I gaped at him. Jared grinned smugly.

"How?"

Jared leaned to the side again. Every time he exhaled I felt it on my cheek. "You can learn so much about a person if you know who to ask. _Plus_ I read your column."

"You do?" Only I didn't use my full name for my column. So how the hell did he learn my middle name? Amber sure as hell didn't know it, unless Stefan told her, which was the strongest possibility because he didn't know how to hold water.

Jared replied to my query. "I do."

"Why didn't you say anything when we were introduced?"

"Because I know that's not the most interesting thing about you."

Oh. Boy.

And I was pretty sure my ass was in Maryland right about now having missed my stop.

When I forced my gaze away from Jared to gauge where I was, I saw graffiti walls, power lines, and trees. I could still be in the district but spied the marquee which told what stop was coming next. Gotdamnit I was supposed to disembark two stops ago.

"I missed my stop."

"So did I."

Jared and shared a laugh.

"We should get off on the next one and transfer to the other side of the tracks," he suggested.

Sounded like a solid plan so I redirected traffic back to our conversation. "So you think I'm more interesting than the column I write?"

"Yes. You give advice and dating tips and warning signs of when a person should bolt. I can't help but be curious about what's driven you to give the advice you give. _That's_ the Bonnie Sheila Bennett I want to get to know."

Him using my full name equally weirded me out and turned me on. "Seriously how do you know my middle name? You're not a hacker are you? Wanted by FBI, NSA, Scotland Yard, Interpol?"

"I wish," Jared reared his head back and guffawed. "Maybe more people would be into my art if I was."

That statement was made deprecatingly but I heard the undertone of bitterness. Guess the two pieces he sold was all he managed to sell, and maybe the critics slammed him straight into rethinking his passion. I wanted to ask but didn't want to pry.

The train slowed its speed as we approached the stop. Jared was the first to get to his feet, offered me his hand. His palm was toasty and he had calluses. His hand wasn't smooth as butter, but was rough. The hands of a builder, a creator, an artist who handled raw material and shaped it into whatever image bloomed in his mind. How would his hands feel gripping my thighs, scaling down my back? I repressed a shiver, craned my neck to meet his gaze. With us standing and me in my sneakers my head barely came to his shoulder.

It was Friday night all over again with him peering down at me. Jared's free hand touched my hip to steady me from the constant rocking of the train. I tingled where he touched me.

We waited for the doors to part open, stepped out into stifling heat that did not inspire one to take a deep breath.

Silently we headed to the opposite platform.

"You're not going to ask?" he broke our silent plea deal.

"Ask what?"

Jared glowered perfunctorily. "How good or bad I bombed Friday night?"

"I didn't want to pry."

He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Some critics loved me. Others thought my time would have been better spent taking selfies and hanging them up in frames from Walgreens."

"Wow."

"Fuck them is more like it."

I laughed. "That as well. People are going to talk about you whether you do good, bad, or nothing at all."

"You're right."

The headlights of an approaching train grew brighter. Jared fixed me with another one of his probing examinations where I couldn't figure what he was thinking or feeling other than knowing what his scrutiny was doing to me.

"The only thing I really care about is if a beautiful woman I gave my number to is going to use it."

I bit into my bottom lip, watched Jared watch me. He was good at watching. So was my roommate.

I liked Jared. I liked Stefan. The former hadn't brought up Amber once and was definitely feeling me. The latter only saw me as a friend yet at times touched me in ways that sent out massive mixed signals. Fuck, was I screwed.

"I'll call you as soon as you tell me how you know my middle name." That was my final bargain.

The train careened by and I waited.

Jared lowered his eyes to his feet. A sign of embarrassment. "Your date told me."

"Godric?"

"Yeah," Jared lifted his head. "He came back looking for you and I offered to get on the PA system but said I needed your full name in the off chance there was another Bonnie Bennett in attendance."

My hands flew to my mouth as I chuckled. "He believed you?"

"Dude seemed pretty desperate to find you. I don't blame him. I would have done the same."

Something dormant inside of me swelled. Yep. I was fucked.

"You gonna call me?" Jared persisted.

I nodded my head and gave the artist my best saucy smile. "Yeah, I'll call you."

* * *

Stefan had the air on Antarctica when I entered the apartment. I didn't smell anything cooking on the stove or baking in the oven. Not trying to say this was the 50's and he had to have my dinner on the table, but our agreement as roommates was: whoever made it home first had to prepare or order dinner so it constantly wouldn't fall on the same person. I came up with that rule since I worked from home seventy percent of the time. However, on the days I had to go see my editor or attend a symposium, or outing coming home and cooking was the last thing on my mind.

As you could guess, on the days we both had to leave out, we tried to make it home at the same time. We could be lazy and petty like that.

Stefan was the better cook having learned family recipes from his maternal grandfather. Recipes he had to memorize. With me he knew whatever would be waiting on the table came straight out of a box.

Kicking off my shoes, and dropping my tote on a chair adjacent to the door, I sauntered into the apartment, frowned. Three empty beer bottles sat atop the coffee table, the flat screen was on but the volume muted.

"Stefan!"

He didn't respond. I surveyed the area seeing signs of him being home, or having been home and possibly stepped out for a jog. Stefan was a fitness junkie and tried to coax me into mounting a treadmill or balancing my ass on one of those inflatable balls. Pass.

His laptop was open to his twitter page; Stefan's work Blackberry sat near one of the beer bottles. His keys were poking out beneath a copy of _The Express_ newspaper.

"Stefan!"

"Why are you yelling?"

I spun in his direction, nearly swallowed my tongue.

Bless me, daddy.

Stefan just had a shower. Evidence? The droplets of water cascading down his chiseled torso and gliding to a place I yearned to see, feel, taste, _experience_. This fucker had on jeans that rode low, the button undone. His hair was slick with water but combed back from his face. Seriously? Stefan must not care how he was short-circuiting my brain.

He dumped his aloe scented body on the couch, kicked his bare feet up on the table. "Can you hand me the remote?" Stefan rasped.

I studied my roommate carefully. His jaw was tense. He was off. Stefan turned moody whenever he had a bad day at work or woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Scenarios one after another paraded through my head and more than likely wouldn't come close to touching on the real matter. Nevertheless, I searched for the remote and found it on the right end table. All of three feet from him.

I handed Stefan the remote after making a big production out of it and sat next to him. "What's wrong?"

His thumb stabbed a button to change the channel. "Nothing."

"You want to try that answer again?"

"No."

"Have you eaten anything?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes because you've drunk the equivalent of a loaf of bread. You need to eat something, Stefan."

"I'm. Not. Hungry. Bonnie," came my roommate's clipped response.

"I don't give a shit. You're eating. You don't want to be hungover in the morning."

Stefan scoffed and blew through channels without pausing long enough to see what was playing. "I don't get hungover from drinking three beers."

"You never drink more than one after work so explain the other two you killed."

"I don't feel like being nagged."

"This isn't me nagging but showing concern. Did you…have a fight with Amber?"

Stefan shook his head. Crap. If they had a fight I could take that thread, pull, unravel things.

"Did someone die?" was my next query.

I heard Stefan's hand tighten on the remote and my heart stopped pounding.

"Someone died?" His mom? Damon? A mutual friend of ours?

His hand relaxed while the other ran up the length of his thigh not quite settling on his crotch. Close enough. "No one died. I did, however, get some bad news."

"Okay. What?"

Stefan finally graced me with an unobstructed view of his face. Eyes half-lidded, stained light red burned marrow deep. Had he been crying? Or were those just run of the mill 'I'm so totally plastered' eyes? Stefan wasn't drunk. He turned randy and incoherent when he was drunk. He was much too mellow for that, but there was an edge about him like a caged animal being released after years of solitary confinement.

To anyone else Stefan was throwing out every signal that warned—stay away, but I wasn't afraid of him snapping at me, therefore, hurting my feelings. I had my days where it wasn't so easy to live with me, either.

"I don't want to talk about it," Stefan resumed flipping channels and settled on the news but didn't unmute the TV.

I spoke on an indrawn breath. "Fine. I'm here when you're ready. In the meantime I can tell you about my day."

Stefan didn't flinch, twitch, sag, or shrug. He remained perfectly stoic. He was telling me 'whatever' without saying a word.

Rising from the couch, I headed to the kitchen that was separated from the living room by the granite top breakfast bar. "The meet and greet was boring as all hell, unsurprisingly. One thing I learned? College professors _really_ like to drink. Yikes, we need food," I remarked as I glossed over the bare contents in the fridge and didn't find much hope for a nutritious meal in the freezer either. "Whose turn is it to go to the store?"

"Yours"

Ugh. "Guess who I ran into?" I waited for Stefan to respond, he didn't. "Jared Malone." I waited some more for a reaction. Nothing. "You know he looks even better riding on the metro than he does standing in the middle of an art studio."

A pale arm that surely didn't belong to me filled up my peripheral, reached into the freezer and extracted a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I hardly noticed since droplets of water were transferred from Stefan's chest to my back.

"You ran into Jared?" that question was spoken directly into my ear, a bottom lip grazed the shell of said ear.

"I…did." I pivoted around. Stefan eyed me and pulled off the top of the carton. He was more alert, animated than he had been forty seconds ago. Did my well-orchestrated candor touch a nerve? "Beer and ice cream for dinner?"

"Who said you need three square meals a day?"

Who indeed?

"Did you two talk?" Stefan snooped. A spoon somehow materialized in his hand and he used it to dig into the ice cream.

"We did. We talked so much the both of us missed our stops. I can say it's the most fun I've had on the metro without taking my clothes off."

A muscle in Stefan's jaw flexed. He slid the spoon in his mouth, withdrew, did it again, pulled out and the scoop of ice cream was gone, melting on his tongue.

I blindly closed the freezer since it was numbing my back while my front was on fire. Back into the ice cream the spoon went. Stefan held it out to me. My mouth opened automatically; mint, chocolate, Stefan was my new favorite flavor.

I closed my eyes and savored the taste, grinding it deep into the membranes of my tongue. One day soon I'll be _eating_ ice cream off Stefan. Until then this would have to do.

"Are you gonna go out with him?"

Slowly, my eyes opened. Stefan was doing his notorious stare down.

"It's looking more promising minute by minute. Maybe you, me, Amber, and Jared can double date."

Stefan didn't agree or disagree. He placed all his concentration on feeding himself more ice cream.

"Are you finally going to tell me what's bothering you?" I touched Stefan's muscled shoulder.

I saw his eyes shift to my hand touching him and ordinarily I would have withdrawn, but kept my appendage right where it was. If he wanted me to stop touching him he could take a few steps backward, or remove it himself. My roommate simply carved another helping of ice cream and offered it to me. I closed my mouth around the spoon, moaned and licked my lips of any creamy residue.

Stefan cleared his throat and put the top back on the carton. His nipples were hard and I was close enough and at the right height to take one in my mouth, but how the hell would I explain that?

"I want you to be careful, Bonnie. You've dated some real assholes in the past."

"I don't need a rundown of my dating history failures. Besides, I think Jared and I are on the same page. We're attracted to each other and that's a good place to start."

"Attraction can fizzle."

"Or it can lead to something beautiful. I get paid to tell people how to manage their personal lives. It's about time I had a personal life of my own. Besides, I'm not worried about how things will or won't go with Jared because I know you'll look out for me."

Stefan grew quiet, reflective. I hungered for his thoughts. "I thought you were going out with your girlfriends for drinks?"

I sighed. "They had plans already, but we're supposed to get together this Thursday. Why don't you round up some of your boys and join us."

"We won't be intruding?"

"Are you expecting my crew to complain there're sexy men offering to buy them drinks? Stefan, I thought you knew us?"

That managed to eek a smile out of Mr. Grumpy Pants.

"I'll see who's available," he gently nudged me out of the way so he could put the ice cream back in the freezer. "Did you want some more?"

I wanted a whole hell of a lot more, but shook my head. "I'm going to order some Thai. You can join me if you want to."

"Get spring rolls."

"Duh," I headed to the drawer where we kept takeout menus.

"I don't mean to keep bringing this up," Stefan distracted me from my task. "Jared reminds me of Damon and on a good day you can't stand Damon."

I laughed. That was very true. I loved Damon because he was Stefan's brother and at times could be a decent person. The rest of the time I fantasized about gouging his eyes out with a spork because he was a rude ass bitch.

"They might physically resemble one another," if you squinted, "but they differ in temperament. Amber doesn't seem the type to befriend someone who is abrasive like your brother. I doubt she'd give Jared the time of day if he had a personality like Damon's."

Then again they had been friends since kids. To remain as tight as they were I'm sure their friendship had to hit a few rough patches, and whatever those rough patches incorporated they were able to work though. I assumed.

Stefan pushed away from the fridge, his hand landing delicately on my stomach, sliding horizontally across my belly. Heat and butterflies shot through me. "He better treat you right or he'll be hearing from these hands."

Those hands were talking to me and I liked what they were saying.

"I'll let him know."

"You do that," Stefan kissed my temple and retook his seat on the couch.

I ordered dinner and did a happy girl dance in the kitchen.

* * *

I was awakened from sleep around two in the morning. One eye opened, the other still closed I gawked at the silhouette looming in the threshold.

"Stefan?"

"Wrong Salvatore."

 **A/N: The divo has arrived. Thanks for reading! Oh and no worries, this won't be turning into a love triangle, square, or octagon. Hopefully. Someone asked who I pictured as Jared and for now I don't have anyone in mind. And I was also asked if I'm from DC. I'm not but I've worked in the district, so places I frequented will appear in the story as we move along. Again, thanks for reading guys. See you shortly.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey folks. Sorry this chapter took longer to come out. Had family I hadn't seen in a while in town, and they don't know about my double life. HA. Enough stalling from me. Enjoy!**

* * *

Brain muddled, nervous system on high alert for danger, I braced myself only to realize it was 2 am, and a Salvatore just interrupted my precious sleep. It wasn't the Salvatore I wanted. That would have been wishful thinking because the only time Stefan and I shared sleeping quarters was when we fell asleep on the couch while watching a movie or TV show. It was _Damon_.

Fact One:

He is a rude ass bitch.

Fact Two:

I was going to stomp his inconsiderate ass. Once I had some coffee.

Sucking my teeth, I leaned up on an elbow, glowered despite the fact it was too dark for him to see it properly. He filled my doorway with an aura of superiority and entitlement. "Damon? What the hell. Why are you in my room?" my voice cracked from disuse.

"I couldn't let another minute pass without you knowing I was back in town," he proceeded to rush forward, launched himself in the air, and landed on my bed almost crushing me.

Some weird noise came out of my mouth at the impact. I pushed—futilely, at his heavy frame, shoving him with my hands and feet. "You are such a douchebag."

"You love me," Damon nuzzled his face in my neck, and began dry humping me like a dog. He groaned, "I missed you, Bonnie."

"Get off, you ape," I stifled a laugh or two because he was being so damn obnoxious, but I could smell the bourbon fumes on him. Regardless, I twisted, pushed, smacked him upside the head. He laughed at my attempts to dislodge him.

I caught him with an elbow to his ear.

"OW."

"All right, Damon that's enough!"

Damon instantly stilled at the sound of Stefan's commanding voice. He lifted his head from the hollow of my neck, and looked over his shoulder. "We're busy."

"Get the _fuck_ off her _right_ now," Stefan demanded in a low, threatening tone that actually sent chills of fear down _my_ spine.

I felt Damon stiffen, but he heeded his brother's words. "Cockblocker," he complained with a shake of his head but thankfully rolled off me deliberately taking the covers with him.

"Hey!" I grabbed them and tugged. Damon let go and my back smacked into the mattress. Hadn't realized how hard I had been pulling. "Ugh, get out! Wait. What the hell are you doing here?" that was directed at the intruder.

In the semi-darkness, I saw Damon tug down the shirttails of his button down and shove a hand through his messy hair. Damon rarely brushed or combed his wig. "I missed my brother and his annoying sidekick."—I flipped him off—"It was time I paid you all a visit."

Sighing heavily, more like hissing loudly, I burrowed back under the protection of cotton, and grumbled for both Salvatores to exit my bedroom before I turned violent. The soft click of the door shutting after their departure was the only signal I had that it was okay to unearth myself before I suffocated.

Damon popping up unannounced wasn't anything new. He's sprung himself on me and Stefan a few times since living together, but his 'visits' was usually the product of falling out with whoever he was screwing.

I'd get answers in the morning. Right now, I needed sleep.

* * *

The seductive aroma of bacon frying in a pan lured me away from the loving arms of my queen size bed. Had to make a pit stop first to freshen up and make myself presentable prior to journeying into the kitchen.

Scurrying into the communal bathroom in my Spider-Man underoos (yes I wore superhero themed underwear) and a ribbed tank, I shut myself inside and placed my iPod into the dock. "Good For You" began pumping through the small speakers. I was no Selena Gomez fan, but this song spoke to me on a damn near spiritual level, especially if you listened to the lyrics, which I did.

Perhaps I was even playing it on a subliminal level hoping it might permeate into the cerebellum of a certain five-eleven, hundred and seventy pound caramel-haired guy.

Pushing that slightly self-serving and frivolous thought aside, I washed my face, brushed the plaque off my teeth, tongue, gums, and hopped in the shower.

Damon being here added an unforeseeable complication. The elder Salvatore was an attention whore and I meant that in the most loving way possible…kind of. If he wasn't pestering Stefan to pay attention to his man pain, then he was targeting me as the butt of his stupid jokes. Well, actually Stefan wasn't immune to Damon's ribbing either, but his patience endured longer than mine ever did. My fuse grew exceedingly short around Damon.

I hummed along as loofah and hand soaped my body. Frothy bubbles tickled down my skin, circled into the drain. Steam rose adding moisture to the air. My fingers got missing within the juncture of my thighs, brushed over that nub hidden among curls. Teeth sawed into my bottom lip, and I did it again, but stopped. Getting myself off in the shower with an extra pair of ears in the apartment? Couldn't risk it. I resumed washing.

Five minutes later I shut off the taps, wrapped my towel around me, and threw open the bathroom door.

My heart stuttered and resumed its normal beat. Fucking Damon was blocking the threshold. "You are _such_ a pervert."

At his own leisure he ogled my legs. The heat of his stare did nothing to my insides. When around Damon I often found myself bracing against that moment I'd start to see him in a different light, as a contender for bedroom privileges.

Thank baby Jesus it never came.

In the light of day I could better view his features. He had a dusting of black whiskers poking out around his jaw, upper lip. Long lashes shielded pearlescent turquoise irises. Damon's perfectly straight nose dipped down to a well-formed mouth that I mostly wanted to punch. He put on a few pounds since the last time I saw him, which was more muscle than fat. He filled out his clothes.

"I cooked breakfast as a sort of…apology for busting into your room last night—er early this morning. I was drunk," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"I was drunk," I mocked. That was Damon's excuse for everything. Forgot to pay his rent—I was drunk. Failed to fill up the gas tank—I was drunk. Ate the last cookie and didn't buy more—I was drunk. "How old are you again?"

"Definitely not as old as you, grandma," Damon stepped out of the way when I shoved him aside, that is. "Like I said, breakfast is ready when your highness is ready to eat."

As much as I would love to slam my bedroom door in Damon's face with some witty remark dancing off my tongue to crack his face, I couldn't deny that for his many faults, Stefan's brother was a superb cook. It was one of the few things the Salvatore brothers had in common. They could burn in the kitchen.

Stomach grumbling, leading a mutiny against my ego's campaign to prove I was above eating something prepared by Damon, I stomped to my bedroom.

"Bonnie?"

"Yes, Damon?"

"You do look good for me," he leered insufferably.

I slammed the door.

* * *

Damon was manning the stove by the time I was dressed. Stefan was in his customary seat at the kitchen table, reading the paper, dressed for work in a starched blueberry Oxford that hugged his muscles enticingly. His gaze shifted ever so slightly in my direction when I joined him at the table, roaming over my features, pausing for a moment to stare at my lips. Yes, I donned that dark lipstick again. His pupil dilated, I saw it.

"Good morning," I spoke softly for his ears only.

Stefan cleared his throat and scratched his nose. "Morning. Sorry about Damon."

"No need to apologize for him. He's old enough to realize that if he has to pee he needs to scratch on the door to be let outside."

Damon extended his arm behind him, stiff middle finger in the air. Stefan chuckled.

Reaching for the mug on my place setting, I filled it with coffee from the carafe. Damon pivoted from the stove, holding our Teflon frying pan and forked eggs on my plate. He smiled, I scowled, he winked, and I smirked a little.

"Bonnie," he greeted innocently as if he hadn't loitered outside the bathroom while I got ready.

I stared down at the food that definitely hadn't been in our refrigerator last night: eggs, bacon, and a square-shaped Belgian waffle. "Your apology for coming uninvited into my room knowing your ass knows better…looks edible."

The clang the frying pan made when Damon dumped it unceremoniously in the sink, made me wince. He took a seat the table and flicked a linen napkin open, placed it over his lap.

"I don't know what you're so pissed about. It's not like you have a _real_ job you had to be up early for."

The insults, the cracks at my 'non-profession', at least according to one snooty Damon Salvatore, who by the way has never done a shred of manual or corporate labor in his entire gotdamn life, yet turned up his nose if someone held a blue collar job, was old. Ancient. Kudos to me, I had stopped being sensitive long ago.

From the gleam in his sky blue eyes he wanted me to call him an asshole. Arguing was foreplay to Damon, how he exuded control or his virility. I used to give in too easily, sparing with him for hours, winning inches and losing by miles. He learned which of my buttons to push and pushed them if he felt I was encroaching on private territory that was locked airtight. Damon had a gift where he could make you want to knife him, but turn around and save his ass because there was something there—some kind of potential that if he stopped dicking around, he could be an extraordinary person.

I never, ever fancied him. His romance novel/dirty magazine/movie star looks drew you in, made you horny, but his acerbic personality was like a Brilo pad on skin. Chafing.

"Ha, ha, so," I drew out the word, picked up my fork, "which one of your side pieces told you to kick rocks?"

"My apartment is being renovated, thank you very much," Damon replied haughtily and shoveled a combination of waffle, eggs, and bacon into his mouth. Bout the only time he was quiet, when he was chewing or sleeping.

I looked at Stefan then back at Damon. "Bruh, you live in New York."

Damon snapped his fingers. "Forgot to tell you that I've relocated to DC."

My startled greens fled to Stefan's resigned bluish-grays. "What are you planning on doing in DC?"

"I haven't exactly figured that out yet."

"And don't tell me you plan on doing that figuring out on my couch." Stefan coughed. "Our couch," I amended.

"Un-bunch your panties. I'm only crashing on couch city for a couple of days until I move into my fuck pad."

"How wonderful," I waved my fork in the air. "Seriously though, who ran you out of New York?"

Damon, who was known for his unbridled stare downs was concentrating awfully hard on his plate all of a sudden. "I'm not running from anyone. I'm just tired of the same scene night after night. I needed a change and I miss my brother."

Load of crap, but I didn't say that out loud. "I don't need one of your psychotic hook ups showing up on my doorstep, Damon. Maybe you've forgotten Kai?"

He winced at the mention of one of his tenderonies. Oh, yeah totally forgot to mention that Damon swings both ways. Moving on, Kai Parker was this fine albeit crazy as hell acquisitions manager Damon met two years ago at some party. They hooked up the same night, and Kai practically moved in with Damon the next damn day. Needless to say, Damon soon found himself living his own version of Single White 'Male'. At first he got off on the fact Kai was the insanely jealous type. However, the novelty wore off when Damon was ready to move on because pussy caught his eye once more, and Kai wouldn't hear of it.

Damon broke things off for good following an incident of road rage where Kai chased him, more like police pursued his ass from New Jersey to New York, and caused a terrible accident on the George Washington Bridge. I mean, shit made headline news! Luckily there hadn't been any fatalities, _but_ there could have been. Kai avoided facing criminal charges but had to do a shit ton of community service.

From the flash of guilt on Damon's face he must have allowed himself to be sweet talked into giving Kai another chance, and he was regretting it.

Nope, un-un, no way was Damon staying here if Kai was the reason he fled NYC to DC.

"Bonnie," Stefan the mind reader must have seen the dots I was connecting, "can I talk to you?"

Nope, un-un, no way was I going to allow Stefan to manipulate me into cutting his brother some slack.

"Please," Stefan tacked on and then lightly tugged me from the seat and led me straight to his bedroom.

He enclosed us inside. Sunlight flooded within since his room faced the street.

I couldn't help where my eyes landed but they landed on the bed, on the black tufted headboard that I could see myself lounging against, hair wild, skin flushed, sated. Back on track, Bonnie.

"I know how you feel about Damon staying here in general," Stefan shuffled closer, his head lowered in that way to make eye contact with me, "but it will only literally be for a couple of days. I'll drop him off at a hotel myself if he's not out by the end of the week."

"Wherever Damon is, drama follows. You know that, Stefan."

His hands smoothed down my arms, and thick fingers sunk between mine. "I do know that. I would like to think my brother has matured…that's he learned he can't act irresponsibly and think there won't be consequences. The only way to see that is if I give him a chance."

Sucking in a breath, I looked away from the man standing in front of me. "He doesn't have to prove that under our roof, but…he's your brother and this is your home, too. I can stay with Suhad if Damon works my nerves too much."

"Hopefully it won't come to that. I don't like it when you're not home."

My heart swelled, but cynicism whipped out her trusty stick pin and popped that balloon.

"What are you going to do if I meet some wonderful guy and he asks me to move in with him because we're getting married?"

Stefan's nostrils flared, and his chest tested the limits of the stitching holding his shirt together as he inhaled. "I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now I have you all to myself…in a…uh…strictly platonic manner," he coughed.

"Platonic, right," I said skeptically.

Like I did with him last night, Stefan cupped my shoulder, squeezed it affectionately. "Thank you, Bonnie."

Together, Stefan and I left his room and rejoined Damon in the kitchen who had finished his food and stolen two strips of bacon off my plate. Like I wouldn't notice.

"That was quick," he sipped his coffee.

I sat down heavily and ignored him leaving Stefan to lay down the law, pass out the syllabus on what would be expected of Damon as a guest in our already cramped apartment.

"You can stay with us, Damon but you can't invite anyone over. I don't want strangers in and out of my house. If you want to fuck you're gonna have to take it to their place or somewhere else. Anything you finish you replace. Anything you break you replace or have fixed. Stay _out_ of Bonnie's bedroom, make yourself ghost while she's working."

Color slightly rose up Damon's neck. "Anything else?" he bit out.

"Be respectful, that's all I ask," Stefan concluded and bit into his toast. "Bon, anything you want to add?"

"Yes," I bore into Damon who didn't back down, "don't get too comfortable."

Damon pursed his lips, "Consider it done." He switched the topic of discussion. "Did Stefan tell you the _other_ great news?"

"What other great news?"

Stefan became even quieter. Whatever info Damon was about to launder to me hopefully would give some insight into my roomie's odd behavior from last night. The excessive drinking—for him—his good impersonation of Squidward something was the cause of it. Stefan didn't get perturbed for no reason.

Damon rooted around his mouth with his index finger, sucked a tooth. "Our mom is getting hitched."

"Lily is getting married?"

"To Enzo." Damon dropped the proverbial mike.

I did a double-take. "You're shitting me."

"I shit not."

Stefan revealed his feelings on the matter by abruptly rising from the table, the legs of the chair scraped brutally against the floor. He snatched up his plate and empty coffee mug and loaded his dishes in the dishwasher. For a moment Stefan white knuckled the lip of the counter.

I wouldn't waste time asking if he were all right. He was barely holding his civility together. Between he and Damon, I would say Stefan was more of the mama's boy, but he didn't run to her with every little problem he faced, or took her word as absolute. He showed respect and deference to Lily Salvatore more than Damon ever tried to do.

That wasn't the crux of the problem. The problem lied in the fact Enzo (whose name was illegal to say in Stefan's presence) would be making himself a permanent fixture in the Salvatore brood. The man was bold. He screwed Stefan's college girlfriend on his birthday and _made_ sure they were caught. My roommate had valid reasons for wanting that bastard struck from public record, reduced to less than a footnote. Like my dad the educator would say when encountering a difficult student who raised hell: mom should have swallowed. I was pretty sure that's how Stefan felt about Enzo's persistent existence.

"I gotta go or I'll be late for work. Damon, don't be a bitch to my roommate."

"You know me, Stef I can be perfectly polite."

Rising from the table, I followed Stefan into the living room, and was partially distracted by the mountain of suitcases stacked in a corner. Inwardly I growled that Damon was staying with us. In due time I'd get over it.

"Stefan," I reached for his forearm halting his search for his work materials. He wouldn't look at me, but I cupped his cheek and forced his head in my direction. "That's what was bothering you last night?"

"More like all day," his words carried a razor sharp edge. He breathed heavily. "I don't want to _think_ on how the hell those two hooked up and all that…ugh. I can't talk about that right now. I just need to get to the office and do my thing. I'll see you tonight."

Stefan removed my hand, kissed my forehead, and left.

"Give him a blow job. That'll make him feel better."

"Shut the fuck up, Damon."

He snickered from his seat at the table, twisted to regard me. "How has it been living with my brother?"

"Much better than it would be living with you."

"You're not fooling me."

I wasn't going to participate in this baiting knowing where it would lead. "It doesn't bother you that your mom is essentially marrying your ex best-friend? Who also happened to betray your brother."

A flash of pique scrunched Damon's face. "You want me to cry and write about it in my diary like Stefan? Donald Trump will be president before that happens."

Tool.

"I want you to be a gotdamn human being and show some real emotion for once instead of treating everything like a joke."

Damon rolled his shoulders and carried his dirty dishes to the kitchen. From where I was standing in the living room I could tell I pricked a nerve. _Good_. Damon had the propensity to be obtuse and exasperating, but I knew it bothered him just as much as it damn sure bothered Stefan that someone he trusted, valued as a friend and who screwed him over was marrying his mother.

I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around the courtship of Lily and Enzo, and honestly it wasn't my business. I wouldn't wish them happily ever after, but I would send up a prayer or two for someone to knock a shred of sense in Lily's head that would lead to the cancellation of her pending nuptials.

Nevertheless, I had things to do. Babysitting Damon wasn't one of them.

"Where are you going?" he asked and sauntered into the living room.

"Unlike you I actually have an objective for today."

"I'm going to need a key so I can come and go as I like."

"Take that up with your brother."

"You really don't want me here, do you?" Damon moved closer. Now he was looming.

What was your first clue, genius? Plastering on a smile I reserved for those I really couldn't stand, "You're welcome here as long as you remain on your best behavior."

Damon grinned, fingered one of my curls. "You and I both know that won't last."

"Exactly."

"God," he bit into his bottom lip. "I missed you, Bonnie."

I slapped his hand away. "The feeling isn't exactly mutual."

* * *

Tired of looking at the same walls in my apartment, I grabbed a book, iPod, cell, keys, smoothie, and headed up the roof. Social gatherings were typically held on the roof on nice nights like this where the sun was lowering below the horizon, a cool breeze was blowing, and noise pollution was minimal.

Damon was out running the streets, Stefan had come home, quiet and reserved. He popped his head into my "office" to let me know he would be going for a run, asked if I had a taste for anything specific for dinner. I had eaten a late lunch at Green Turtle. The Mediterranean burger I consumed had hit _all_ the right spots, and hours later I still felt full. Stefan said he had a hankering for wings and fries and would probably grab something from this small restaurant a few blocks away.

The roof wasn't totally vacant. A couple occupied a pair of chaises, voices low; an occasional burst of laughter was shared between them. Another young-ish looking man stood in a far corner yapping away on his phone.

I headed to the right since all the activity was happening to the left. My steps slowed when I immediately recognized the bare-chested, sweaty guy pumping iron.

Stefan was lifting free weights, earbuds lodged in his ears, mouth grimacing with each completed rep.

It was impossible to look away as I found myself being engrossed with the way his muscles stretched and contracted under sinewy, beige skin. His gray basketball shorts showed off he didn't have a typical white boy ass. He had cushion.

Stefan must have sensed he had an audience because he looked my way, but didn't stop doing his arm curls.

Who knew what my face was doing. If I was staring at him rapturously or impassively. I had my impassive mask down pact, but my bottom lip didn't feel connected to my top and there was a definite draft entering my mouth. Snapping out of it, I cleared the distance between us, found an empty chaise, and plopped down on it.

"I see you had the same idea…sort of," Stefan indicated the items in my hands.

"I guess so," I replied and wondered if he heard me over the music streaming into his ears.

He dropped the free weight, and removed a single headphone from his ear. "I don't plan to be up here for much longer. Amber is stopping by."

Just toss me off the roof. "Oh. You're finally off suspension?"

Stefan chortled, picked up a towel and wiped his face. I ogled his obliques as they stretched. "The Nat's are playing tonight. She has tickets and I'm sure she wants me to go with her."

"And I'm guessing she didn't come right out and ask you if you'd be her date."

"No. She'll make suggestions, drop hints, but won't say 'Stefan will you go with me to such and such.'"

"Maybe she wants you to take the lead when it comes to outings. If you leave everything up to her it sets a precedent, establishes power and when you rail against it, _that's_ when problems occur."

Stefan waltzed to where I was seated, grabbed my legs, and placed them over his lap as he sat down. He took my flip flop off and began massaging the arch of my foot.

"If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now…it comes in handy living with a relationship expert."

"I'm no expert."

"You're the closest one I know," Stefan amended, dug his knuckles into my heel.

A moan escaped, couldn't be helped.

Stefan stared at me, I stared back unabashedly. His eyes lowered to my foot. "How was Damon today?"

My head fell back. "He left shortly after breakfast. I haven't seen him since. Feeling better?"

"Marginally. Sorry I was an ogre."

"You have every reason to be considering the bomb your mom dropped on you. How are you _really_ , Stefan?"

He took his attention away from my legs and feet, stared at the horizon. "It was years ago that everything happened, but it still feels fresh, you know? I can't escape feeling that Enzo is playing a fucking game, playing with my mom's heart, and that he doesn't truly give a shit about her, love her. I'm her son. I should look after her interests."

"Then that's precisely what you need to do. Share your concerns with Lily. Talk to her, question her. Hell, hire a PI to follow Enzo and see what he's up to when he's not around your mom."

"That's not a bad idea," his fingers skimmed across my hairless legs. Sparks traveled, curved inward, burrowed their way to my happy place. "What if…what if it's real? What if…they're really in love?"

The conundrum. "Only one way to find out. You're gonna have to see for yourself."

As one could imagine that probably turned Stefan's stomach _all_ the way off. "I'll think about it," he murmured quietly.

The mood was killed when Stefan's phone began buzzing. He dug for it out of his pocket and I did what I could to offer him some privacy by pretending not to eavesdrop.

"Hey," the timbre of his voice lowered, became intimate. Must have been Amber. He didn't stop stroking my legs though. "You're downstairs? All right, I'll be down in a minute."

"Bout to abandon me?" I pouted.

Stefan turned apologetic. "I need a distraction. Amber provides that," he placed my legs aside and got to his feet. "You'll probably be asleep by the time I get back. If so, sweet dreams."

Only if you appear in them. Stefan collected his towel, free weights, and cleared the roof.

I sat, considered, decided. Turning over my phone, plugging in that trusty passcode, I scrolled through my contacts until I found what I was looking for. Nervousness hijacked my steely resolve and, cricking my neck I shoved it aside, and dug deep for that fierce Bonnie Bennett who wouldn't let anyone know she was intimidated even when she was.

The line rang five times before it was answered. "Hello?"

"Jared? Hey, it's Bonnie. Are you busy?"

 **A/N: Thank you, loves for reading. Drop me a line.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey, loves. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, alerted, all that good stuff. This chapter is a bit different in that it's told from both Bonnie and Stefan's POV. Hope you enjoy! *I only edited this once so forgive any typos, grammatical errors, I'll clean them up later***

|| **Bonnie** ||

Desire. That was the single word typed on my screen as I sat in my sixth floor office waiting for inspiration to hit. In my mind's eye images flew past of objects, people, places, and body parts the world at large coveted. But what did desire actually mean in laymen's terms? I could go by its textbook definition, relate it back to something democratic in nature, but it wouldn't get me any closer to finishing this damn article.

Rubbing my temples, I twirled around in my chair. I decided a change in venue would kick start my literary juices and I could bang out this 750 word puff piece and meet my deadline. Time was on warp but my thought processes were on sloth speed. As one could imagine it wasn't a good combination for a writer.

I checked the time. It was almost five, almost quitting time. Like the other writers in this office I probably wouldn't be making tracks to the door until closer to eight, maybe even nine.

Cursing, I sat up straight. I needed a fix. A burst of adrenaline, and since playing in traffic was a bad option, guess I'd have to take a trip to the vending machine.

My cell rang.

The name on the screen made an ear-to-ear grin split my face. "Hello."

"Hey. Are you busy?"

Sinking in the leather seat, I twisted a strand of hair around a solitary finger. Closing my eyes I thought of the caller's face. His features were disjointed but I focused on the ones I liked, which yes I liked them all, but mainly his chin butt and dimple, and I couldn't forget about those smoldering gray eyes. I sank my teeth into my index finger.

"No, I'm not busy. Actually I'm stalling."

"Why are you stalling?"

"Because I'm blocked."

"This sounds serious and may even require my help."

"I would hope so. From one artist to another this would be the perfect opportunity for us to trade…notes." Hopefully he'd pick up the innuendo.

Jared Malone laughed throatily. "There are lots of things I'm interested in trading with you, Bonnie."

"Hmm, do tell."

"I rather tell you in person. I need to see you again."

I like the way you think, Jared. "It can be arranged. We really didn't get to talk for too long when I finally put your number to use."

"I regret that and it's the reason I'm calling. Are you sure you're not busy?"

Technically? "I do have a deadline that's eyeballing me, but I could use a break."

"I don't want to inconvenience you."

"Trust me, it won't be an inconvenience."

"What's the closest Starbucks near you?" he pondered.

Starbucks, literally one on every corner. I rattled off the address of the one I usually frequented when I actually worked out of my office on Constitution Avenue.

"I'll see you," Jared hung up.

I did was well and squealed to myself before jolting to my feet. Grabbing my toiletry bag I made a run to the bathroom to get my teeth, lips, and hair right. I spritzed on more perfume, and made sure there weren't any stains on my Donna Karan knockoff dress.

I braved the streets teaming with people rushing home and those in cars trying to fight gridlock traffic in vain. I suppose that was a good thing about living in the district. Never had far to commute, unfortunately that didn't make it any easier.

Perfect, the line for Starbucks was out the door just like you'd find it between the hours of seven to ten in the morning. I'm beginning to believe they put meth in this stuff.

As if I had tuned my radio to pick up his waves, I spotted Jared in the multitude. He was seated at one of the small tables, two takeout cups of something sitting on top.

Tossing out a litany of 'excuse me' to waiting customers, I made my way inside and over to my coffee date.

Jared rose fluidly to his feet and I was reminded of how tall he was. Gawd damn. My short ass had no business being with anyone over five-eleven, but Jared had to be a good six-two, and those were inches he looked extremely comfortable standing in. Today he was wearing a plain heather gray T-shirt with black and dark blue geometric shapes covering his left peck and sleeve. His jeans were dark denim and embraced his legs and calves. His black and white Chucks completed his relaxed appeal.

"Hey," he leaned down, laid a kiss on my cheek, and scrambled my brains in the process. "I'm glad you didn't blow me off."

We separated much to my chagrin and had a seat at the table. "Why would I? I like you."

Jared grinned boyishly. "I like you as well. Agreeing to meet up with someone who's still a virtual stranger does take guts."

"True," I agreed. "But I really did want to see you again."

"Ditto." He slid one of the takeout cups towards me. "I hope you like what I ordered. I tried guessing what your taste buds might like."

My left eyebrow arched. "What did my taste buds tell you?"

"Try it," Jared urged.

I took a tentative sip and tasted mocha and chocolate. Yep, those were two of my favorite flavors. I moaned slightly and eyed Jared who gazed back at me intently. The drink was cold but his stare was its opposite. His dilating pupils distracted me and my face heated.

"Did I do well?"

"You did _real_ well. How did you manage to get drinks so fast? The line is ridiculous."

Jared smiled again, deepening that dimple. "Let's just say I have connections."

"I like a man with connections especially if it means a rush delivery on food."

"You love to eat?"

Was there a double meaning in there somewhere?

"I _love_ to eat." Jared and I both sipped our drinks. "So this isn't the part where you tell me more facts about myself that I haven't divulged, is it?"

Jared's cheeks colored and a brief expression of mortification did fly across his face. "I swear all I know about you are the things you've told me so far and what I've been able to infer."

Placing my elbows on the table, I leaned forward, "What have you been able to infer?"

Jared mimicked my actions. Wow, he was close. So close that each time I breathed I smelled him and nothing but him. "You're restless but cautious in your restlessness. You want…passion. The kind that's endless but leaves you spent at the same time. You want to store it in a place where the one with the key is the only one able to touch it."

I kid you not it felt like he reached between my legs and fondled me. Thirstily, I slurped up more of my beverage. "Are you laying it on thick so you can get laid?" I teased.

"Maybe," Jared shrugged carelessly and I couldn't be mad at him. Hell, I wanted the same thing. "I've been told I come on too strong at times."

"You find that a fault or a virtue?"

"A little of both," Jared cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He drummed his fingers on his knees, legs spread apart as men often sit. The artist entrapped me once more as he took mental photos of my face. "I don't know you, Bonnie but I know getting to know you will be worth it."

Humbly, I replied, "I would hope so," not so humbly I revealed, "I am, after all, one of my favorite people."

He smiled, drank some more, and I found myself irrationally jealous of the lid of his cup. "Tell me, am I helping to remove your writer's block or am I making it bigger?"

"You're definitely inspiring me, Jared. Too bad what I want to write has nothing to do with the article I have to compose."

His masculine laugh was the rich, throaty kind I was growing addicted to hearing, to eliciting from him. Without my noticing, Jared's hand covered mine and the mirth drained out of both of us replaced by something borderline inappropriate especially in public. This man. Was he the entire package? I mean he possessed qualities and attributes that could make the blind see, the lame walk, and the mute speak. He was doing something to me in a very basic way. He was dangerous.

"Have dinner with me tonight," he said.

My lips pulled back to my teeth and the little girl inside of me wailed because I couldn't. "I really want to, but I seriously need to work on my article. What about Friday?"

Now it was Jared's turn to look regrettable. "I'm headed to Charlotte for the weekend. I'm premiering down there."

"Next weekend?"

"The entire weekend?" his eyes brightened.

"Let's start with Friday and see how it goes."

"All right. Next Friday it is."

Jared walked me back to my office building. We loitered, talked, unwilling to part ways.

"I shouldn't want this because it's so soon but…I want to kiss you," his hungry gaze feasted on my lips.

The ones above and below certainly wanted him to as well. "I'm not opposed to that," I did what I could to downplay my eagerness.

His thumb caressed my chin. "I'm going to wait though because…I plan to take my time."

"What about a preview?"

Jared laughed but kissed my cheek. Then, as if he couldn't help himself, his lips slipped lower and he kissed the corner of my mouth. All I had to do was shift my head and our lips would touch. Perhaps he was waiting for me to take the initiative.

The blare of a horn made us jump apart. Cockblocked by a taxi.

Jared growled, but sighed, "Until Friday, Bonnie."

He waited as I reluctantly shuffled inside, throwing Jared furtive looks over my shoulder. These would be the longest six days of my life.

* * *

Having a cozy, early evening caffeinated drink with one man and going home to another, was I burning the candle at both ends? No, I didn't think so either.

The rough draft of my article was done and sent off for the first round of editing where I already knew I'd have to rewrite the whole thing from scratch. It was a piece of shit, but it was something and didn't that count for something?

It had only been two days but true to his word, Damon was making himself scarce. I barely saw him, which was great for my blood pressure. The apartment was quiet, just me and my brooding roommate. The norm.

"Are you addicted?"

Stefan jerked at the sound of my voice or perhaps the question itself. He regarded me over his shoulder as I sidled beside him on our little balcony.

"Addicted? To what?"

"To these," I held out the bag of empty pomegranate covered chocolates. "I just bought these yesterday and they're already gone."

"It wasn't me."

"Must have been Damon then. Please tell me he's close to being put out of our apartment."

Stefan cracked a tiny smile. "I went with him to check out how the renovations are coming along to his place. There's still a ton of work that needs to be finished."

"That's the exact opposite of what I need to be hearing."

I was close to questioning Stefan on how his brother could afford to renovate anything in the Capitol because shit was not cheap. Depending on the area one could pay upwards of a thousand dollars or more for an efficiency. The Salvatores were well off but labeling them as wealthy would be a stretch. I, for one, never gave their finances a second thought because it was none of my business. But like I said, Damon had never held down a real job to my knowledge.

A warm hand found its way to my back and started rubbing in soothing circles before moving to my ribs, squeezing me slightly.

I stared at Stefan; he was surveying the scenery in front of us. I thought about Jared and the feelings he stirred inside of me and our pending date. I made a decision today. A very important one. Though pestering questions hoped to harangue me and make me feel like I was moving too fast to prove a point, I ignored them. I wasn't going to put my life on hold for anyone, let alone a guy who was involved with someone else at the moment. Days were numbered and it made no sense to squander any of them for a fantasy that may never become a reality.

Stefan pulled me closer. Reading my mind again? Out of habit I used his shoulder as a pillow.

"I might be leaving for a few days," he confided. "I gave our conversation the other day some thought. I'm going to see my mom, find out where her head truly is."

"That's good. Does she know you're coming?"

"No, she doesn't. I don't want to give her a head start to line her ducks in a row in case things aren't as she wants them to appear to be."

I thought, "Wait so that means you're leaving me here with _Damon_?"

Stefan's chuckle rumbled through me, the vibration hitting all my fun spots. He turned me to face him, his eyes hooded, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. "I know you can take him if you absolutely have to."

"Which we both know I will."

"Seriously, I never fully understood the gripe the two of you have for one another. Well…let me rephrase, Damon can be a handful…"

"And that pretty much explains everything," but I didn't want to waste time talking about Damon. So long as he stayed in his lane we wouldn't have any serious problems. "He's an irrelevant subject and I mean that in a nice way. Can we talk about something else?"

"All right. What do you want to talk about?"

Lots of things, but I just buried my face in Stefan's chest, inhaling his cologne, feeling the gentle rustle of his cotton shirt on my skin. I wanted to tell him about Jared, but would that come off as bragging? From what I've been 'allowed' to see Jared is worth bragging about, however, I didn't want him to interrupt friend bonding time with Stefan. As much as we liked to kid ourselves Stefan and I wouldn't always be like this. We would meet other people who would start to occupy more of our time, thus lessening the strength of our relationship. Some could talk about being progressive all they liked, but deep down still harbored traditionalist ideas and wouldn't want their significant other spending a lot of time with someone of the opposite sex who is 'just a friend'.

Stefan fingers cupped my chin, "Hey are you all right?"

"Yes," I pulled back to make eye contact. "I'm fine for the most part."

"And the parts that aren't all right? What's going on there?"

I smiled thinly. "You don't want to know."

"Yes I do. This is me officially being nosey," Stefan lightly butted his forehead against mine and whispered, "Tell me all your secrets."

Shivering, it was a bit scary how we could be on the same wavelength—mentally, but I nestled in its comfort that with us and communication it was never like pulling teeth.

"My biggest issue," I reared back to take in the full scope of his face: that blade sharp nose, deep-set eyes, jawline which begged to be bitten. "My biggest issue is that I'm horny like all the fucking time."

Stefan stiffened and then reared his head back and laughed raucously. He pulled me flush against him and kissed my temple.

"I'm glad my predicament amuses you," I shoved him off of me feigning offense.

"It's the spring. I'm sure there're _lots_ of people who share your pain."

"You're not one of them?"

"No, actually I'm not, which is weird because I'm usually hard as a motherfucker in the morning and then again right before going to bed."

Yeah Stef and I hardly used filters.

"I don't know," Stefan shrugged. "I guess I haven't been giving it much thought and perhaps the knowledge that my mom is marrying an asshole it's momentarily killed my libido."

Interesting theory.

"It's left someone else a little disgruntled, too," he added.

And we've arrived at yet another person I didn't wish to talk about. I could really give a good hot damn about Amber and her 'needs'.

"Yeah, well she'll deal," I said tersely.

"Yeah," my roommate muttered softly. "I'm bored. I have about ten contracts I need to look over but I don't feel like doing that. It's Thursday night…we should go get a drink."

"All right. Let me change." Scurrying off to pick out the sluttiest pair of shoes I owned, I put them on, criticized my attire and shrugged. A fashionably ripped pair of skinny jeans, and a sheer hi-lo blouse with a lacy camisole underneath was good enough.

Stefan was waiting for me by the door. "Ready to get shitfaced?"

"Yep."

He opened the door. "After you."

* * *

|| **Stefan||**

Shitfaced we did get, Bonnie more so than I did. She was in rare form tonight accepting drinks and using her curvaceous ass like a weapon on anyone bold enough dance with her. I had been…tempted to slide right behind her to see what she would do, but that would have been taking advantage of her. We've danced before, in a silly, joking kind of way. Grinding, I let the experts handle that. I was an awkward two-step kind of a guy, and stuck with what I knew.

As the night wore on and I was feeling less and less inebriated, and one guy was getting too hands-y with my roommate, I had to step in and diffuse that shit. Bonnie was clearly drunk and the vultures picked up on it, targeting her signal, moving in to pick her apart, entice her to the nearest exit with the promise of a good time. We had our fun. It was time to go.

I gripped her arm, made her look at me. "Let's go home."

The dude she was body banging didn't look too happy about the interruption. He opened his mouth to complain, I cut him off.

"Fuck off."

"Man, who the fuck you think you're talking to?"

"No one," I dismissed him and tugged Bonnie.

"Hey," douchebag reached for Bonnie's other arm.

I stepped in between them, jaw set. "If you don't wanna piss blood, save your kidneys a trip to the ER and let. Her. Go." I may have been slight in frame but I knew how to box.

"Whatever," the guy smartly walked away.

Bonnie and I shuffled to another part of the bar.

Her watery, red streak eyes still managed to sparkle. "You were going to fight that guy?"

"Maybe," I shrugged and covertly checked our surroundings, made sure douchebag didn't round up any of his friends to attempt to jump me later.

"Ahh, Stefan you love me," Bonnie slurred.

"Maybe," I grinned.

"Can I dance to one more song?"

"No."

"Please, Stefan."

She pouted but I girded myself against that full bottom lip, refusing to crack. She wouldn't play me like she did where she swindled half of my breakfast into her stomach.

"It's late and the both of us have work in the morning."

Bonnie was full on scowling, but didn't fight me as I led her to the entrance and the both of us were outside, taking in the humid air.

"You weren't having any fun?" she hiccupped.

"I stopped having a good time about two shots ago. But hey, you were drinking enough for the both of us."

Three hard drinks was her limit. That small chick had had other plans, another goal testing her liver and kidneys ability to break down the components of tequila, rum, and who knows what else. I made sure Bonnie didn't mix brown and clear because that would have had her throwing up everything, brain included.

"My feet hurt," she whined.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, I said, "Hop on."

It took about three tries before Bonnie was able to climb abroad my back. She giggled.

"My crack is showing. I can feel it," she snickered.

I joined in too. She was adorable when sober. Drunk Bonnie was the kind you wanted to film and blackmail later just to see her get pissed off because there was nothing hotter or sexier. She had a way of looking at you that could cut to the quick and you could see your death in her eyes. Yet there was the other side of her you wanted to protect, shelter, wrap up and place in your back pocket for safe keeping.

"Promise me we'll always be this close, Stefan."

"I'll take out a blood oath if you want me to."

"Hmm," she murmured and belched.

Seriously? I felt that shit in my soul. "Gotdammit, Bonnie."

"Sorry. Man I am really drunk."

"I'm glad you're lucid enough to be aware of that."

"No, I thought I saw Damon."

"He is in town."

"Oh, duh. Forgot," she laughed again.

After hitching her higher along my back several times because she kept slipping, we finally made it back to the apartment. Bonnie was singing about riding a surfboard and drinking watermelon. I had no earthly idea what the fuck she was talking about.

I dumped her momentarily on the couch and headed to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. Her cell phone started ringing. She had left it on the breakfast bar. Whenever we hit up the night life she only carried her ID, money, gum, and cell. Tonight she had forgotten to take it with her. I peeped the name on the screen, looked at Bonnie, then the screen again, and hit the ignore button. She was in no condition to talk to anyone at the moment. That's what my mind said, conscience on the other hand…fuck it.

Jared could leave her a message. It wasn't terribly late, but late enough to be considered booty call hours. For a Thursday.

Glass of water in my clasp I strolled to the living room only for her phone to start ringing once more.

"My phone is ringing."

"Ignore it."

"It could be important."

"It's not," I handed her the glass which she accepted but only drank a tiny sip. "Finish it."

Her green eyes darkened, glared up at me, but she chugged the water and thrust the empty glass back in my possession.

"Why aren't you drunk?" Bonnie curled up on the chaise portion of the couch.

"I know my limits. Why were you determined to get tanked?"

"I thought that's what we went out to do. Don't question me right now, my head hurts."

"Come on," I pulled her up. "You need to get to bed."

Bonnie stumbled to her room, mumbling incoherently, and tossed herself on the mattress.

There was a knock on the front door, more than likely it was Damon. I still hadn't given him a key and I wasn't too sure if I wanted to, but then having to answer every time he knocked would soon get old.

Back into the living room I went to answer the knock.

It was Damon like I suspected. His hair was more tousled than usual, his button down wrinkled. He smiled lazily and I knew that smile enough to know he had gotten his first piece of ass since moving to DC.

"Hello, brother," Damon drawled, walked to the couch, fell down face first. He probably wouldn't move from that spot for the next eight hours.

Rolling my eyes, locking the apartment, I turned off lights, set the alarm, and checked on Bonnie.

She was having trouble with her shirt failing to realize that it needed to be unbuttoned not pulled over her head.

Wordlessly I went in to assist, and when my fingers brushed her arms, she hissed.

"What's wrong?"

"My skin…everything feels so sensitive right now."

Oh.

Gulping, I didn't know what to do. Getting over my ineptness, I fell to my haunches and unbuttoned her blouse, pushed the fabric off her shoulders, and dropped it on the floor. I eyed her lacy camisole for a minute and came to the conclusion—no she wasn't wearing a bra. Her areolas weren't exactly visible, but if you stared long and hard like I was doing (unintentionally, I swear), you'd see them.

I don't know why my tongue was moistening my bottom lip, but it was, and when I finally stared at Bonnie, I saw a distinctive look.

You know the look I'm talking about. The one that led to clothes coming off and a dick being inserted into a vagina. _That look_. And I realized right there and then it was my actions that placed that rapacious expression on Bonnie's face.

Immediately I clamored to my feet and put space between us. "You should get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

I was out the door before she could toss out the suggestion I stay. If she had, if she uttered those words I wasn't sure if I'd been able to turn her down, say no. What the hell, Stefan? Really, dude, really? Things aren't like that between you two. Yes, I was closer to Bonnie than any other woman I knew, closer to her than my own brother, but I couldn't...I couldn't go there with her.

Shaking my head I crossed the short distance and barricaded myself in my man cave.

Hands clasped behind my neck I paced back and forth in my room. I was confused, pissed off and hurt about the whole Enzo marrying my mom thing, Damon was here and he always came with strings attached that had shards of drama sown into them like a cattail flogger, and maybe I was a bit horny. Despite what I told my roommate earlier. Still, those weren't excuses for almost crossing a line with Bonnie. I needed to screw my head on straight and get my shit together because I was getting sloppy.

"Stefan?"

Her voice whispered through two inches of pine wood.

"Yeah?"

"Will you open the door?"

"I'm not dressed, Bonnie," I lied. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah, do you have any aspirin?"

"Did you check the medicine cabinet?"

"Yes. There was none in there."

"I don't have any in my room. I'll get some tomorrow."

Bonnie didn't say anything but she was still there right outside of my door. I felt her like my own skin.

"Good night," she said.

The breath I held rushed out the second I heard her door close and the lock turn.

* * *

Call me a coward but I didn't come out of my bedroom until I knew Bonnie left the apartment the next morning. Damon was lounging on the couch—thankfully completely dressed—scrolling through his phone.

"So I was thinking about having a small get together on the roof this weekend. Sort of my very own 'Damon: Welcome to DC' party."

Of course Damon couldn't make a quiet entrance though he was supposedly keeping a low profile. All it took was seven seconds for something to go viral and your business was everywhere. If this was his idea of burying his head in the sand while his problems in the Big Apple blew over then he needed to rethink his strategy.

Coffee, I needed coffee.

"Do what you want because that's the only way you know how to operate."

"Is that 'tude in your voice I hear? Or judgment? Sometimes they both sound the same," big brother questioned me.

"Pick one. They both apply."

"You're feisty this morning. You know I like that, Stefan."

Classic Damon. You see, Damon liked to joke he and I have been engaged in an ongoing incestuous relationship, and he liked to say that shit in public with old people or hot girls standing around. He really made it difficult to love him every day of the year.

"I'm spoken for," I muttered dryly.

"Ha! You and Bon must have switched personalities overnight. She was actually nice to me. Well she said 'Good morning you freeloading bastard' because I ate the last bowl of cereal, but it didn't have its usual bite," Damon seriously looked disappointed.

Those two needed their own reality show. I got cracking on making the first batch of coffee, but other than that I really didn't have a taste for anything. I said to my brother:

"How does it not make you sad that you have standards when it comes to someone insulting you?"

"It's a gift really," the weight of his stare was on me but I didn't look at him. "What's wrong with you? Don't tell me the constipated look has to do with mama," cue dramatic eye widening, "gearing up to do the wedding march. You know that's never going to happen, right?"

"How can you be so sure about that?"

Damon joined me in the kitchen, leaned along the counter. "Enzo can't stay faithful to save his life, that's one."

"If mom is genuinely in love with him regardless of whatever smear campaign we come up with against fuckface it won't change her mind. We inherited our stubborn gene from her. From both our parents to be technical about it."

"So what are you telling me, Stefan? That you're going to roll over and welcome Enzo as our new step daddy?"

"No," I smacked Damon on the shoulder, "but I am going to find out his real intentions concerning mom."

He nodded. "In the meantime help me compile a guest list."

"No."

"All right then I'll get Bonnie to help me. Hey can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Is something going on between you two?"

I don't know why a guilt-like pang went through me. It did and I prayed it didn't show on my face. "Damon, she and I are just friends. Why are you asking me that? You're not thinking about...?

"I might be reckless but I'm not suicidal. Bonnie can't stand my charming ass. She would be a mountain I'd never succeed in climbing that's why I don't mount it," his grin turned insolent. "I like antagonizing her too much to romance her."

Uh-hun, right.

"Yet you wouldn't mind seeing her naked," my eye narrowed, couldn't seem to be helped.

"I have seen her naked."

"What?" I deadpanned and a mysterious red haze clouded my vision.

Damon smirked, "It was an accident. Happened two summers ago. She was in the sauna at the boardinghouse. I didn't know she was in there. The rest as they say is history."

"How long did you look before you remembered to be a gentleman?" Was I yelling?

"Stop yelling."

Guess I was.

"Answer the question."

"Long enough to inspire an erection."

Damon had the grace to look sort of contrite about that. However, it wasn't enough. A surge of violence rippled through me that was both alarming and soothing which made zero sense. This was my brother and Bonnie was my friend, but the level of fury pumping through me at an inhuman speed was more than being offended on a friend's behalf.

I blinked it away. "Again why are you asking me about Bonnie? There's nothing going on between us."

"Oh I just thought I sensed something the other day."

"Sensed what?" Stop entertaining him Stefan and make some breakfast.

"You treat her like she's your girlfriend."

"I do not." Did I?

"All kissing her forehead and shit."

"Crime of the century. Stop the presses. We're friends and friends take care of each other. Now drop this stupid ass conversation. I have work to do."

Damon lumbered out of the kitchen. "I know you, little brother and I know when you're smitten."

"I'm with Amber, Damon. Your argument has no basis."

He paused and looked at me. "To quote a line from one of my favorite movies 'oh really?'"

 **A/N: Clearly someone is lying to themselves, but it's all part of the growing/learning process. Thanks for reading, guys. Hit up the comments section.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey peeps. Yeah it's been a minute since I've updated but only because I was on break. As a fair waring this chapter features mostly Bonnie x Jared. There is a Stefonnie scene, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for the reviews!**

* * *

Sometimes the weather in DC could become freakish. A spontaneous rainstorm when minutes prior it had been sunny and beautiful outside. Hail, tornado-like winds, lightning that lit up the place like it was Fourth of July, thunder that rocked buildings. Well, I guess that wasn't so different from what happened all over the world, but when walking through the metropolitan area, between skyscrapers where the sun was blotted out it had a more haunting effect.

We were caught in one of those "without warning thunderstorms" where life was momentarily put on pause, as people stood around gazing up at the darkening sky.

"Shit, it's about to rain," Stefan grabbed my hand as we waited for the light to turn green to cross a six-lane intersection.

Thunder rumbled; the wind blew at a velocity that pushed us briefly to the side. Men wearing ball caps grabbed their hats. Women secured their loose hair in a makeshift ponytail, but people carried on, ignoring the warning of what was to come.

Stefan and I had just finished having lunch together, meeting up at spot not far from his job. It was our tradition to meet up once a week.

We had a block left before he'd be at his place of business, but the blocks in DC were _long._ They weren't your average length, probably as long as a football field or longer depending on where you were.

As soon as the light switched to green there was a hard crack of thunder that spooked me, but I was being pulled behind a determined Stefan. A pelt of rain smacked me right on the cranium. The next landed on my shoulder, then my nose, and then it was coming down in sheets.

Horns blared, people cursed and groaned, and ran for cover.

My sandaled feet slipped over the slick asphalt, but thankfully I didn't go down. Stefan's fingers tightened damn near brutally on mine as we scurried across the street making it to the other side without being run over by impatient motorists.

Stefan ran expertly ducking between slower moving pedestrians who didn't seem to notice it had turned into a monsoon. I kept up with him, struggling slightly, worried about my sandals popping off my feet at any moment.

We would be drenched if we didn't find a place, an alcove or awning to duck underneath to wait out the storm.

"Up here!" Stefan yelled over his shoulder and we were running up a pair of stairs that led to a building that was probably one of the many Smithsonian's.

We darted between a pair of marble columns and found we weren't the only one with the same idea.

"My hair," I whined. I at least had the foresight to pull it into a ponytail but it had still taken the brunt of the rain, the ends wet. I could smell the leave-in condition bleeding out of my tresses.

"Its fine," Stefan's fingers brushed a few wet strands off my forehead, tucking them back into place.

"Yeah, right, but thanks for lying."

He grinned and looked away. Periodically we saw clusters of people sprinting down the street using whatever they held in their hand as an impromptu umbrella.

I diverted back to him. "When are you getting on the road to head home?"

Stefan would be abandoning me for twenty-four hours with Damon. Ugh.

"Around six in the morning on Saturday. I should be home late Sunday night. You want to catch a movie on Friday?"

As appealing as the idea was my Friday was already booked. That was pretty much broadcast on my face and I saw the subtle change to Stefan's hopeful one to something closed off.

"I have a date that night, roomie."

"With?"

"Jared."

Stefan nodded but otherwise made no further comment.

"You're not going to poke your nose into my business and demand to know where he's taking me? What we'll be getting into?"

"I'm not your father," Stefan stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Hmm. "You never let that stop you in the past."

"You're a big girl, Bon, and Jared…he seems like good people."

The back of my head butted against the hard wall poised behind me. I listened to the rain strike the concrete, the roofs of cars, and felt fingers slinking across my forehead removing more strands of wet hair. Heat suffused in front of me altering me that a pliant body was drawing closer. The tickle of lips right at my ear said:

"He better treat you right or I'll kick his ass."

Laughter bubbled out of me and I stared at Stefan's profile. He pulled back enough for us to make eye contact. The glint in his said he was serious.

"Jared is at least five inches taller and about…" I scanned Stefan from head to toe. His wet shirt was damn near translucent and I saw his hard nipples tenting the fabric. "Twenty pounds heavier."

He looked completely unconcerned. "I don't give a fuck how tall or big he is. That doesn't automatically spell he'd have the advantage over me if it came down to a fight."

"Why are you so ready to come to blows anyways? I never knew you to be violent."

Stefan grinned and put more space between us. "I'm no tree hugger but something's trigger a violent response in me."

"Such as?"

"Anyone messing with my family…anyone messing with you."

Stupid heart just had to get to fluttering. "You're so overprotective."

"I can't help that. Would you rather I not care if anyone where to hurt you, Bonnie?"

"Well of course I want you to care, but you don't have to pick up a sword and challenge someone to a duel. I know you want the best for me, Stefan. It works both ways. I want you to have the best, and yes I will drag a bitch if she messes with your heart."

"And that's why I love you."

"I love you, too."

Stefan beamed and focused on the rain still coming down in sheets. "Doesn't appear this storm is letting up anytime soon."

And as soon as he said that the entire area was eliminated in shades of silver-white as a bolt of lightning cut across the sky. I braced myself for the subsequent boom of thunder, and it came like a hand clap from God. I tensed. Being outside during a thunderstorm was one of the most terrifying things.

"Say something to distract me," I petitioned.

"You still owe me twenty bucks."

I burst out into giggles and rolled my eyes. "Fine," I huffed, dug into my purse searching for that all-elusive wallet that liked to hide behind receipts, makeup, and a ton of other shit I shoved into my bag.

Pulling out a fresh Andrew Jackson, I waved it in the air before crooking my finger for Stefan to come closer. He obeyed.

I folded that twenty and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans, and not totally ashamed to say I groped his butt a little.

Stefan tried to fight off his smirk but gave into the urge. "You trying to have your way with me, Miss Bennett? I should call your daddy," he teased.

"Shut up," I retracted my wayward hand, but Stefan didn't exactly put any space between us.

Another boom of thunder sounded, I jumped.

"Come on, Scaredy Cat, let's head inside whatever this building is," Stefan edged toward the door. He opened it and motioned with his head for me to enter first.

I did and he popped my booty.

"Bitch," I cursed and rubbed my stinging cheek.

"You do it to me all the time. Do I complain?"

Yeah, but not the point though.

We meandered inside to discover it was an art history museum.

"How's your manuscript coming along?" my roommate wondered as we trailed from one exhibit to the next.

"It's coming," I shrugged. "I have a meeting with my editor next week where she's expecting me to hand in chapters 5-10 and I'm still stuck on chapter 4. I've been lacking inspiration."

"I can help your muse."

"How? Unless you speak Russian and know ten ways to kill a man, how do you plan to help me?"

"A muse feeds off a stimulus, right?"

"I guess." I wasn't sure where Stefan was going with this.

He slithered behind me, "Then it's time to broaden your natural senses, Bonnie. Smell things deeper, taste things purer, touch things harder, see things beyond the surface, hear sounds you didn't think we were possible to discern. Look at this painting."

I did.

"Now imagine what you _think_ I'm doing behind you."

He really did not want to go there with me.

"Concentrate on the colors…see the brush strokes…inhale the acrylics used to create this, but tie that into what I'm doing. Can you picture it?"

Closing my eyes, for a while nothing happened. Nothing stirred within me. My attention was often thrown off to accommodate focusing on a new sound, but then I blocked it out. Traveled deeper. It was right there, on a precipice.

Stefan's warm hand landed on my hip. "Good girl. Are you seeing something?"

"Yes."

"Whip out that phone and jot down what just popped into your head."

Stefan stepped away and it was like a loose thread being ripped off a garment. He had moved on to take stock of another portrait and I was left feeling combustible. My roommate could be so incredibly rude at times.

Later that night while he snored up a storm, I sat in my little office, pounding away at the keys. Around three a.m I snatched off my reading glasses, and sat back in my swivel chair. Mission accomplished.

* * *

My underwear didn't match every day and I sometimes walked around with chipped nail polish. The point was, so long as I kept it real with myself then who did I really have to impress? Change was the avenger of routine, and I was about to do a semi-renovation.

Jared and I had been texting religiously all week. Words and emoji's sustaining the both of us until we were able to see one another in the flesh. He sent me a selfie, a shirtless one. I sent him one in return of my jaw plopped open. He called me afterward.

"I want to hear the noise you made when you saw my selfie."

Too amused to be put off with his arrogance, I retorted, "Who said I made a noise? Perhaps that was a look of horror."

"I doubt it."

My cheeks were burning because I was grinning like a toothless baby at my first photo shoot. "You left me speechless, Jared."

"Your face does that to me each time I see it."

Deep sigh. Jared was going to be the death of me in a good way.

"Off the top of your head name the five foods you simply can't live without. Go!"

Laughter was my first answer as my brain completely short circuited for a moment, having been put on the spot. I had to get over the initial euphoria, rush that Jared was putting my number to use, calm myself down long enough to sound mellow.

"Five foods I can't live without…hmm…sourdough pretzels, peanut M&M's, my aunt Tessa's mac-n-cheese, crab cakes, and…mint chocolate chip ice cream. Why do you need to know these things, Jared?"

"Research purposes."

"Right and what about you? What are five foods you can't live without?"

"I'm holding those answers hostage until our date. Friday is too far but I can't wait."

"Ditto," my teeth sank into my thumb completely unable to wipe the smirk off my face.

"Sweet dreams, Bonnie."

"Sweet dreams, Jared."

That conversation had fueled me until Friday. Tonight was the night and a bitch was nervous.

To my utter delight (dismay) Damon was home. Stefan was there too, pecking away on his MacBook, forehead doing an awesome job of mimicking the blinds.

I needed a buck fifteen to get ready, but literally only had less than ten. Jared was in route and I was battling against a debilitating case of first date jitters. The palms of my hands felt like someone dumped a hot coal on it. Explaining to myself that breathing normally was non-negotiable and absolutely necessary, I calmed my tits long enough to brush my teeth and get my makeup on.

From the bathroom, I heard Stefan and Damon arguing over what bar they were going to hit up. The elder wanted to venture to a spot where the clientele was just like him. Gorgeous with washboard abs looking for no strings attached sex. Stefan on the other hand wanted to patronize his favorite tavern where his drinks were half price since he was friends with the co-owner. I left them to it, but already knew they would settle with heading to the local liquor store, buy a bunch of booze, and get tanked on the couch.

Toothbrush jammed in my mouth, my phone started ringing the special ringtone I programmed just for Jared. That same toothbrush almost ended up in the toilet as I let out a shriek. Spitting out toothpaste residue while answering the phone, I found my chill.

"Hello?"

"Hey love," Jared's baritone timbre penetrated my ear like the rumble of low, purring thunder. "I'm about five minutes away."

He called me 'love' I inwardly squealed. All right, Bonnie get your ass in control, now.

"Okay. I'm just about ready," I lied.

"Take your time. I'll see you soon."

We hung up and I rinsed, gargled, spit, and put on my lipstick.

I literally jumped into my clothes; a white, high neck seamless crop top paired with a turquoise flowy asymmetrical wrap skirt that revealed thigh with each step I took.

Careening into the living room, I hopped around struggling to get a wedge sandal on my foot, while trying to stick a chandelier earring through my lobe.

"Need some help?"

"Yes, please," I handed Stefan my earring and stood still while he carefully put it in.

"Where are you going?" Damon swaggered out of the kitchen, pulling the tab on a can of beer.

"I have a date."

"You have a what now?"

"Shut up."

"Who are you going out with?" Damon poked his nose where it ought not go. Or belonged.

"No one for you to be worried about because you're not really in this apartment," I smiled sweetly.

Damon fake smiled right back before parking his ass on the couch. The doorbell rung and it was like a person hitting the wrong note on a piano as my nerves flared.

This would have been the point where I turned to my best girlfriend to fangirl, shriek, but I couldn't do that with Stefan who was very quiet. He had ambled to open the door, and surprisingly greeted Jared with an elaborate handshake.

Something tampered with my oxygen as my date entered the apartment seeming larger than life with his stature.

Decked out in a thin gray V neck shirt, sleeves bunched at the elbow, a vest in a darker gray, tight, ripped jeans showed off the magnificence of his muscular legs. My saliva nearly choked me as I swallowed.

Jared locked gazes with me, the smile on his face stretching, making those loveable dimples of his pop. It was nearly my undoing. I didn't move a muscle as he gave me a long and thorough optical frisk, and when he bit briefly into his bottom lip, my nipples got hard.

Stefan cleared his throat and I remembered he _and_ Damon were present. Oops. I swayed to Jared who bent and kissed my upturned cheek.

"You look beautiful," he whispered in my ear.

What I wouldn't give for him to take one of those big hands of his and grab my ass. "You look very handsome."

Jared winked.

"Don't be rude, Bon. Introduce us." Damon, naturally, had to insert himself into the equation by joining Jared, Stefan, and myself standing in the area that wasn't quite living room or foyer to be exact.

"Jared this is Stefan's older brother Damon. Damon, this is Jared."

"Hey man, nice to meet you," Jared extended a hand.

Damon eagerly accepted it. "Likewise. So you're taking our Bonnie out."

I caught him briefly ogle Jared. Typical.

Jared released Damon's hand. "I am."

"Well good luck with that," Damon said and slithered away.

I did look at Stefan. The expression on his face was…he wasn't really wearing one. There were few times that Stefan was stoic, and like me he typically wore his emotions on his sleeve making him easy to read, cover to cover. Tonight, he wasn't letting anything in and certainly wasn't letting anything out. It was wrong to take joy in that but I did. Sue me.

Turning to my date, I informed, "Jared, I'm ready to go."

"All right. Well I guess I'll see you guys later," Jared tossed a lazy hand up in a wave and escorted me to the door where I picked up my purse.

"You two have fun," Stefan stood impossibly close behind me. His fingers brushed my arm and when I gave him my undivided attention, the poker face mask melted enough for the warm Stefan I was accustomed to, to shine through. "Be good," he said for my ears only.

"Your good or my good?"

Stefan shook his head. "Don't do something Damon would do."

"Ah," I snapped fingers and pointed a finger at my roomie. "Don't wait up."

Jared and I vacated the building where he presented his arm for me to take. Gravity was working in reverse and I felt weightless with my hand on his arm.

My date cleared his throat unable to hide the flush to his cheeks. "I had to park half a block away. I hope your toes can forgive me for that."

I stared at my footwear. My wedge heels added four inches to my height, but provided plenty of cushion. I'd be all right for the most part. Unless Jared had designs to drag me all up and down through DC then yeah we'd have a problem.

"My toes will manage."

"I can always carry you," he suggested.

"There's that as well."

"Here we go," Jared gently pulled his arm away in order to take my hand as we rounded the most unusual car.

"Um…what's this?"

Jared chuckled huskily and opened the passenger side door. "It's a fully restored 1932 Ford Roadster."

It was a classic in the truest sense of the word. It was, for all intents and purposes, a convertible, black exterior with red and black leather seats to which I saw nary a seat belt. Would this car—that would turn heads—even be able to meet the standard speed limit of thirty-five miles an hour? Guess I was about to find out.

Sliding inside the vehicle, Jared hopped behind the wheel and started an engine I expected to roar loudly, but it was a sophisticated growl that dispelled any notion it wasn't built to handle high speeds.

Shades covering our eyes, Jared shifted into gear and we were off. It was a good thing I decided to put my hair up into a ponytail, edges gelled so they weren't flying all over the place.

"How was your day?" I started the banal part of conversation to get it out of the way.

"Nerve wrecking."

"Why?"

"I had three meetings lined up with potential buyers and every time I tried to explain the inspiration behind a certain piece, it was like I was overcome with the world's largest brain fart," we laughed. "I couldn't articulate shit," he wagged his head at his own ineptitude. "My mind was too focused on tonight."

I slighted him with a knowing look. "Will I ever not intimidate you?"

"I hope not." Jared lightly pinched my thigh. We merged on the highway.

"So where are we going exactly?"

"You haven't told me about your day," Jared deflected.

"Well, I spent a good majority of it finishing up two articles. One for my usual publication; and the other is a freelance article for the Washington Post."

"You write for The Post?"

I could hear the impressiveness in Jared's voice. "I do. Occasionally. My circuit court judge father and lobbyist mother wouldn't hear of their baby girl _only_ being a relationship columnist for mere pennies. So I sometimes write think pieces for major publications, but I only do it five times a year. A lot of research goes into that shit, but it's mad lucrative."

"Guess I need to pay better attention to who pens articles. I had no idea I was taking out such an accomplished woman."

"You thought I was a slacker?"

A light flush pinked Jared's cheeks. "N-no, I wasn't trying to imply that."

My laughter made him take his eyes off the road once more.

"You're doing it again," Jared chided.

"Well, you kind of walk into things, therefore, leaving me little choice but to exploit you."

"Can I say I hope you exploit me…thoroughly?"

My toes curled but I affected a cool façade. "Maybe. If I'm feeling generous."

"Then I'm hoping you'll be merciful," he paused briefly before starting another round of conversation. "So you're not going to ask me the obligatory question of why I'm still single?"

"A lot of good people are still single. It doesn't mean anything is wrong with them. Besides, I know that's not the most interesting thing about you."

That right dimple was flirting with me. "I see you're a fast learner."

"I try to be."

"But seriously," Jared shifted gears, "ask me."

"Okay, Jared why are you still single?"

"Advice given to me by my paternal grandfather," he began to explain. "He said to me 'Jar' and he's the only person allowed to call me Jar by the way and that can never leave this car,"—I giggled—"But he said to me 'Jar, the best thing you can do for a woman is be her friend. If she's the right one everything else will fall into place.' I've met a lot of women, some of them turned out to be good acquaintances, some wanted to skip the whole friendship stage and go right into a relationship."

He said nothing else and I guess it was up to me to infer the answer through his spiel. "You gotta help me out here. That still doesn't explain why you're single."

"Because it's easy to find a girl you want to bang, but one you want to bang and be her friend before and after it's turned out to be harder than expected. Plus, I'm extremely busy. My art…she's my wife, my lover, my side piece, my mistress, my bitch. I give her so much of me that what I have left, isn't enough…for some."

Hmm, his words spoke to me on a creative level. On a personal one, it worried me. Threw up a major red flag. Was Jared preemptively telling me that though he might like me, want to get to know me, that at times I'd be shelved so he could suck the toes of his main bitch—his art?

I felt the weight of his probing stare.

"What are you thinking?"

I wiggled against the seat and crossed my legs. "You know I understand about dedicating the time to expanding your passion, I'm just…a little curious if you have time to even casually date."

Jared bobbed his head, switched lanes. Most of rush hour traffic had died down so cruising along I-395 wasn't met with many impediments, or having to constantly stop and go.

"When it's something I truly want I make the effort. No question. Look at that," he pointed.

"That's where we're headed?"

"Yep and I have a surprise. I hope you're ready, Bonnie."

* * *

Jared managed to find a place to park right there on the National Mall. From the trunk he retrieved a blanket and a picnic basket.

First dates were usually spent in a crowded restaurant before heading to a dark movie theater. Our first adventure would be spent outdoors with tourists and locals who spoke a myriad of languages. It was amazing really that in half a block one could hear up to five different dialects. We walked hand-in-hand across the grassy knoll and found a spot right outside of the George Washington monument.

"I gotta say I've never done this before," I helped Jared unfurl the blanket and spread in across the grass.

"Never? Never called up a bunch of your friends and told them to meet you on The Mall to have a picnic?"

"No, and part of me should feel shamed about that. But in my defense, me and a few of my girls did congregate to view the MLK monument, and afterwards we had lunch in Arlington…at a restaurant."

Jared laughed and, taking my hand helped me sit down, which I had to do it in a cute way since I was wearing a skirt.

"What's in the basket?"

"The second surprise," Jared popped open the basket but didn't pull anything out. "List your favorite foods for me again."

Dramatically I sighed and did as requested. Each item I ticked off, Jared removed and laid it on top of the blanket. My eyes lit up with amusement. Dinner would be consumed on paper plates—the good kind—real silverware, and a chilled bottle of white wine.

"Now this isn't your Aunt Tessa's mac-n-cheese so hopefully it'll be a nice substitute."

"It's not Stoffer's is it 'cause I eat enough of that."

That overtly sexual face of his filled with enjoyment. "No, it definitely didn't come out of a microwaveable tray."

All right, the boy undoubtedly earned himself some major brownie points. We chowed down and Jared shared with me his favorite foods: his mom's clam chowder, Krispy Kreme doughnuts, buffalo wings, and coconut.

"I'll remember that for our second date," I downed my glass of Pinot Grigio.

Language spilled from our lips weaving tales of our lives from childhood memories we could recall as accurately as possible, to a few cringe worthy adolescence stories better left on the editing room floor. There were a few times where conversation lulled and we were distracted by the milling tourists, or distracted by one another. Lapses in silence were punctuated by dilating pupils, lip bites, and a wayward finger caressing an exposed body part eliciting goose bumps.

We lingered on the blanket watching the sun dip below the horizon.

"Full?" Jared inquired.

"Yes," I patted my stuffed belly.

"On to the next part."

The second stop was to Reagan National Airport where we parked and watched planes take off and land. Prior to, Jared had dipped into a Safeway grocery store and bought a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream—a flavor he never tasted before, and a box of plastic spoons. We sat on the hood amid others who had congregated to do the same sans eating ice cream that is.

He made it a point to stop talking and focus every drop of his energy whenever I sank of spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.

"Pervert, stop drooling," I admonished playfully.

"I can't help it. You know what I've been waiting for, for the last two weeks. Don't spoil my moment."

I snickered quietly.

Jared leaned closer, his head nearly touching my shoulder and stared up at me from beneath those long, dark lashes. "Are you honestly enjoying yourself? By some standards this might be a cheap and boring first date."

"I don't see it that way."

He was surprised. "You don't?"

My ponytail swished along my upper back as I shook my head. "I love being outdoors and I rather break bread in the elements than being in a stuffy restaurant where I have to be conscious of how loud I laugh. Like I told you, I never had a picnic on The Mall, and I haven't watched planes take off since I was a kid."

"Who used to take you? Pops? Your mom?"

"Neither. My… _old_ best friend's dad. One Saturday a month he'd wrangle us up and take us to Richmond. We'd make a whole day of it and end it at the airport guessing at where the planes were going by the direction they veered off to. How'd you get into plane watching?"

Jared released a hard breath. "My favorite uncle. He was a pilot and used to tell me stories that I know my mom wouldn't have approved of her nine old son hearing," he chuckled dryly. "I thought about being a pilot, but I don't like flying."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"I love to fly. I can only stand being in a car for like two hours and anything over that, I get stir crazy."

"I'll keep that in mind. Are you still close with your old friend?" Jared ate another spoonful of ice cream, pink tongue gliding over that bottom lip to lick away any left behind residue.

"Unfortunately…I'm not."

"What happened if you don't mind me asking?"

"What typically happens…people grow apart. If I see her, I'm cordial but keep it moving."

"How long have you been friends with Stefan?"

Wow that seemed random. "Um…six years."

"And you've lived with him for…?"

"For the last year and couple of months."

Jared nodded and glanced at the next plane pummeling its way down the tarmac.

"Does it bother you?" I tossed out.

"I don't know many guys who live with chicks and vice versa. It doesn't get weird?"

"Only if we make it weird. Living with friends can be hard at times, but Stefan and I have an understanding and we're honest, probably too honest with each other at times. We make it work by respecting each other's boundaries."

Jared sat up, bracing his hands on his thighs. He looked at me, burning me with those ash-colored orbs. "If I wanted to come over…would that have to be cleared with Stefan, first?"

"Let me put you at ease, Jared. I'm a grown woman and as a grown woman I don't need any man's permission to fuck with abandon in my bed. If anyone has an issue they know how they can rectify it."

It was funny to see the way Jared's eyebrows hitched upward. I could see he was a bit embarrassed but I didn't hold his curiosity against him. If he lived with a woman, I'd want to know if they had some kind of system set up as well when it came to having overnight guests. I certainly wouldn't want to wake up in the morning ready to pour my coffee to find some stranger half or fully naked standing in my kitchen. Without a courtesy warning beforehand.

Jared wagged his head. "Well that clears up any mystery."

"Do you not date women with roommates?" I prodded.

"I do and I have. They all just happened to live with someone who shared the same parts," he laughed uneasily, scratching the nape of his neck. "Really, if it's cool with the two of you then it's not a problem with me," his hand cupped my cheek. "I can't decide."

"Decide what?"

"Which light you look better in. Daylight or moonlight. Both."

"Is that the artist in you talking?"

"Perhaps. Would you sit for me sometime? I'd like to paint you."

"I guess," I feigned nonchalance but inwardly I was doing the running man. I had to go old school on this.

Jared pulled me closer, our backs pressed along the windshield, his arm my pillow. We watched the bellies of planes lift and disappear in a darkening sky. My head slowly turned toward him. His lips twitched and where in striking distance. I could tell he wanted me to cross that imaginary line, take things to the next level.

So I did. I erased what space there was between us. His lips pressed against mine, warm, plumper than expected. Jared wrapped his arms around my waist, hauling me closer, crushing our chests together. Our mouths fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and he tasted like mint, like chocolate. The rough texture of his tongue slipped past my teeth and brushed my own.

We rolled until I was nearly pinned beneath his big, muscular body, his leg wedging between mine. Jared controlled the speed of the kiss, its depth. I followed his lead, kissing him back sensually, like a woman whose mouth hadn't been succulently ravished in months.

Jared broke the kiss to plant smaller, sweeter ones along the circumference of my jaw, down the column of my neck. His teeth tugged the collar of my shirt. The intensity of his gaze made me gulp and inhale.

Wordlessly, Jared helped me off the hood and into the passenger seat. The next thing I became aware of he was backing out of the makeshift parking spot, and we were making out way back to DC.

The whole drive to my apartment my face stung with heat. I don't have to tell you my clit was as hard as his dick I felt pressing up against my thigh. However, his actions or I should _reaction_ to our first threw me off. And I made damn sure to wear that confusion like a blinking neon sign.

"I had to stop, Bonnie."

Jared finally ruptured the silence and killed the worry and panic I was starting to feel. The anticipated rejection that was bubbling up. Jared's dick may have craved me, but that it didn't speak for the rest of him.

"Why?"

"If I hadn't…I would have tried to talk you into letting me fuck you."

Well, I certainly like a man who's straightforward.

"But I want to know more than your body, Bonnie," Jared went on to explain. "I do think with beyond the head in my pants."

"That's good to know. So you liked our first kiss?"

"Of course I did! You felt I did. You didn't think I enjoyed it?"

"I'm just checking to be sure. Our bodies may want something our minds don't."

"My body and I," Jared palmed the steering wheel, "are always one."

"Sure, dude."

Jared turned off on my street and managed to find a spot closer to my building. We lingered, got out, and he walked me upstairs.

Inserting the key in the lock, I wasn't ready to walk through that door, go through the usual spiel about having a good time, thanking him for taking me out, and sending him on his way. So I said fuck it, turned around and wrapped my arms around Jared who was ready.

It was really shameful how we kissed right there in the middle of the hallway, making enough noise to wake the hardest sleeper. We wouldn't cross that line—not tonight, but I would definitely leave an impression, an imprint that waiting would be worth it. I was good at what I did.

A sigh of happiness escaped and was promptly swallowed by Jared's hungry mouth when his hands palmed my ass, grabbing those cheeks.

"I should go," Jared talked around a mouthful of well, my mouth.

"Un-hun," we kept kissing.

Jared slowed things down, drawing out the experience. Our lips brushed as he confessed, "I promise to go slow. I'll always go slow in the beginning, and increase my speed when I'm close to finishing," he presented that insufferable crooked grin.

If he didn't quit with the innuendos.

I heard footsteps drawing closer to where we stood that I ignored.

"Jared!"

A shrill voice that reminded me of nails on a chalkboard had us seeking out the source of the gotdamn disturbance.

Like a pair of deer stuck in the middle of a highway were Amber and Stefan.

"Hey guys," I beamed and returned to nibbling Jared's lips.

Chapter end.

 **A/N: Hoped you guys enjoyed. Please leave me a comment. Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello everyone. This chappie pretty much picks up where the previous one ended. Thank you so much for the reviews. Happy reading!**

* * *

I wholeheartedly expected Jared to pull away, straighten his clothes, and pretend as if we hadn't been caught red-handed inhaling one another's tonsils. Surprisingly, he did mumble against my ravished lips:

"Damn, and it was just getting good."

Giggling, I finally ended our oral Olympics. Straightening a skirt that behaved itself and didn't lift along the curve of my thigh, I turned to face judgment in the form of my precocious roommate who donned his inexpressive mask. Amber's cheeks were an alarming shade of red. The diameter of her eyes had yet to return to normal. She didn't know who or what to look at or address. A nervous bubble of laughter sprouted from her heavily glossed lips that she smacked a hand over, shook out her hair, and inhaled a breath.

"This is a surprise," she said after all of that.

"Indeed," I concurred and finally got around to unlocking the door.

"You guys had a date?" Amber asked but her attention was thumb tacked to Jared.

He answered breezily, "We did. We had a blast. What about you two?"

"Oh, I was visiting one of my girlfriends who lives nearby and asked to stop by for a second."

"Well come on in," I swung the door open, switched off the alarm and started flicking on lights.

Three pairs of feet shuffled in after me. Stefan brought up the rear, locking the door after his entry.

"Where's Damon?" I pondered.

A crease appeared between Stefan's thick eyebrows. "He got a call and said he'd be out late. I don't try to keep up with him."

My head twisted from side to side, "He's been here for all of a week and has gotten more…" I censored my next words. They probably would have been too much for Amber's blushing ears.

I watched as she hesitantly took a seat on the couch throwing Jared furtive looks. He stood awkwardly sinking his hands in his pockets.

"Help yourself to a seat, Jared," I prompted. "The couch isn't going to eat you."

He flashed a lopsided grin and deliberately sat on the far end of the sofa. From the way he and Amber were behaving, like they weren't lifelong friends, was slightly alarming and strangely hilarious. Were they not used to being in the same room together while they were with their significant other?

Stefan slapped his keys on the breakfast bar and switched on the kitchen light. "You guys want something to drink?"

"I'll take a glass of water, Stefan. Thanks," Amber crossed her legs, sitting so prim and proper on the edge of the cushion.

"Nothing for me," Jared declined.

"You sure?" I asked. "Sure you're not…parched?" I sank my teeth into my lower lip and raised a brow.

Jared stared and I heard him swallow. "Maybe…I'll take a bottle of water, too."

In my peripheral I saw Amber frowning disapprovingly.

"Bon," Stefan called, "you want anything?"

Joining my roommate in the kitchen, I yanked open the cabinet where we stored the blender. "For some odd reason I want a strawberry slushy. Wait…do we even have strawberries?"

Stefan pulled a plastic container filled with those bright red delicacies off the second shelf in the fridge sliding them across the counter. I clapped my hands together which was enough to get Stefan to crack and release that charmingly boyish lopsided smile.

"Make me one," he brokered.

"I'm not spiking it with alcohol," I forewarned.

Usually that would have been the part where one of my butt cheeks stung after meeting with his hand. Instead, Stefan tugged on my ponytail and delivered our respective guests their aqua.

Amber accepted with a coy smile, Jared with a head nod.

Stefan sat down on the arm of the sofa where Miss Amber-deen didn't waste a second cocking her elbow on his knee. "So…what did you guys do on your little adventure if you don't mind me asking?"

Jared deferred to me to which I shrugged, busy with gathering ice from the freezer, and the sweetener.

"We had dinner on the National Mall and afterwards drove out to Reagan National airport to watch the plans take off and land."

"Don't forget the ice cream," I reminded.

Jared chuckled a bit. "Yeah, before the airport I made a pit stop at a grocery store to get Bonnie her favorite ice cream. Actually our entire meal consisted of the five foods she can't live without."

Stefan perked up. "Sourdough pretzels, peanut M&M's, crab cakes, her Aunt Tessa's mac-n-cheese and…mint chocolate chip ice cream," he rattled off easily without having to pause and think.

"That's right," Jared said almost disgruntledly.

I beamed at my roommate nonetheless who winked.

And of course Amber had to interject, "That's all the two of you ate tonight? That doesn't sound very nutritious."

"Hef…"

"Hey, Bonnie," Stefan interrupted what he knew was going to be a legendary drag. He hopped up from the couch and rejoined me in the kitchen. "I think there are some blueberries. Throw in a couple for me," he whispered, "No name calling tonight, please."

"What do you think I was going to call her?"

Stefan pressed his lips together. "I know how your mind works, woman," he fought off a smile and reopened the fridge, no doubt on the hunt for those make believe blueberries.

"You know," Amber sat her bottle of water aside, stood and brushed her hands down her jeans. She tentatively crossed to the kitchen but stopped at the threshold. "A slushy sounds really amazing. Can I bother you to make one for me?"

If she thought using a high-pitched baby voice was going to melt my sensibilities, and get me to do her bidding to make sure that plastic smile on her face never went anywhere…

"Stefan makes better slushies now that I think about it. Take it away, roomie," I clapped him on the shoulder.

Stefan scoffed. "You're so lazy… and spoiled."

"Get over it. That is not news."

Amber looked between us with a frozen smile in place. She blinked as if coming out of a stupor or a coma. "So Bonnie…Jared knows the five foods you can't live without but can you name his?"

We were going to play that game were we? The Who Knows Jared Better game. Well, she had the advantage considering they practically grew up together, but Jared hadn't been mysterious about his past, hoarding information in a controlling way to lessen his chances of getting hurt. He shared pieces of himself with me, pieces that were just tip of the iceberg, but pieces nonetheless.

Gracing Stefan's plus one with a smirk, I ticked the items off with my fingers and watched as the brilliance in her leer dimmed watt by watt. When I was done, Amber tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, cleared her throat.

"How are those slushies coming, Stefan?" she asked.

Feeling that I had abandoned my date long enough, I approached Jared. "Hey."

"Hey, you know…I think I should go. It's getting late and I have an early day tomorrow," fluidly he rose from the couch.

A corner of my eye shrank because I didn't believe him. That was the oldest and most cliché excuse in the world to use to cut out of a place which made you uncomfortable and second-guess your confidence.

Examining Jared carefully those ruminations I had about him from the first night we met and the look he wore on his face as he stared at Amber…well he wasn't wearing that open an expression, but he looked conflicted, pained, out of his element. Gone was that confident artist who kissed me as if we had already gotten biblical, who kissed me as if he'd perish if he didn't learn the secrets and taste of my mouth. What stood in his place…I couldn't even say.

"All right." I certainly wasn't going to make Jared stay when every cue he was throwing out bespoke of how much he wanted to flee.

"You're leaving?" Amber butted in. "Oh, Jared you don't have to go. We haven't really seen or spoken since the show."

"I know," he flicked a worried gaze toward me before giving his bestie his unadulterated attention. "We kept missing each other on the phone. I'll give you a call this week. I promise."

Amber beamed, crossed over to him, and threw her arms around Jared's shoulders pushing her big boobs into his chest.

Stefan chose that moment to turn on the blender. Its grating noise broke them apart, both appearing sheepish.

Amber took a step back, gaze volleying between me and Jared. "Well, you two probably want to say goodnight. I'm going to go help, Stef. I'll be waiting for your call, Jar."

Hearing her call him by a nickname Jared just told me _tonight_ his grandfather was the _only_ one allowed to call him by…was like stubbing your baby toe. Jared visibly cringed while Amber, oblivious to the bomb she just set off, sidled up to my roommate draping her head on his shoulder as he fixed slushies I was more than prepared to pour on her head.

Without another word I moved over to the door, throwing it open. I cancelled the budding plans of actually walking Jared to his car in the hopes of sneaking in more kisses, but he could forget it.

His fingers wormed around my wrist and, against my better wishes, Jared propelled me out of the apartment and into the hallway. The door slammed shut.

"You're upset," he deduced the obvious.

Folding my arms, I shrugged. "Well, the night almost ended on a high note."

"Bon…look I'm not going to pretend that you didn't hear Amber refer to me by the name I said only my grandpa is allowed to call me, but…" Jared sighed and threaded fingers through his black hair. "She does that whenever she feels…threatened."

Redistributing my weight on my feet, I blinked up at him. "She feels threatened?"

Jared nodded. "Amber gets like that every time I start dating someone new."

Moving down the hall, Jared followed. "Have you considered she passive aggressively becomes a bitch because she has feelings for you?"

Jared didn't immediately deny my suspicion. "I didn't want to discuss this so soon because I really do like you, Bonnie…more than I expected. But…for two months Amber and I dated. That was _years_ ago. We agreed to remain friends. Ever since…things get weird between us whenever we start spending time with someone else."

"In my profession that's what we call a red flag. Getting involved with someone who has unrequited feelings for someone else…"

"It's not like that," Jared denied with a shake of his head, his gray eyes imploring me not to cut the cord just yet.

"Answer this, Jared…if Amber were to come to you and say that she wanted to be with you, and not just to date casually, what would you say?"

When he bit into his lips it made that dimple I was so fond of, deepen. Jared released a weary breath and reached for my hands. "If you had asked me that question before we met…I would have taken her up on her offer. Now…I'm more interested in seeing where things go with you."

Was I honestly supposed to believe that? A heart didn't flip on its axis that quickly. We humans weren't programmed like that.

"That's interesting," I said, totally not buying his bullshit.

Jared frowned. "You don't believe me?"

"Would you believe me if I were the one to say that to you?"

A muscle in his jaw flexed. "Probably not. Look, we had a good night, got to learn more about each other. Let's not let Amber ruin it. I meant what I said. I want to see where things can go between us."

"And you don't view that as settling?" I quizzed.

"It would be settling if I genuinely wasn't interested in you but was going through the motions. How many people date _just_ to date, and have zero connection with the person they're dating?"

Jared had a point. And I had been an example of that point when I went out with Godric. He was nice, sweet, paid for everything, but he didn't inspire any butterflies in my stomach, or made my knees go weak.

"You make my brain hum, Bonnie."

Shivers.

Drawing my tongue over my bottom lip, I sighed. "Well there's something you should know."

"You like Stefan."

Seriously, was I walking around with a sign around my neck?

"I'm not an idiot," Jared specified.

I honestly had nothing to say.

"I understand, Bonnie," Jared's thumbs brushed over the back of my hands. "I see more than what's in front of me. I study body language. Plus, I saw the two of you when you left my art viewing. How he had his hand low on your hip…how you looked so comfortable with him. And even just now, there's chemistry between you that expands way beyond mere friendship."

"So where does this leave us?"

Jared considered my question prior to answering. "In a position to be friends. I don't want to stop seeing you. Do you want to stop seeing me?"

I didn't but would it be smart to continue with something even with our feelings for other people out in the open? It would be far healthier than pretending that deep in our cores our souls weren't hollering for someone else. However, there was just so much uncertainty.

"I really enjoyed myself tonight, Jared," I admitted. "There's an undeniable chemistry between _us_ and I'm not ready to call it quits on that, either. But…"

His hands traveled up and cupped my face, distracting me. Jared's forehead kissed mine. "So let's not stop. At least not yet. We'll be friends."

"Friends who kiss?" I grinned hopefully.

He snickered. "Kissing is the gateway drug. It can lead to other things," the timbre of his voice lowered. "It could lead to skin on skin contact…a moist tongue licking around an extraordinarily wet surface. Should we really risk that?"

Glaring up into his eyes, I pulled back. "We probably shouldn't. I feel like you're going to try to lead me astray."

"It's a strong possibility. So maybe we should establish some rules. We'll go out, have fun, get to know each other, and after a month if our…feelings for two unavailable people have changed then we give _us_ afair shot."

Sounded like a fair enough plan. "That seems doable. And if our feelings for two unavailable people haven't changed then we stop seeing each other?"

"We'll revisit after the month is over. Well," Jared angled his head and kissed my cheek. "I really enjoyed myself tonight. Thank you for going out with me, Bonnie."

"Thank you for taking me out, Jared. Text me to let me know you made it home safely."

"All right," another kiss smothered my cheek and Jared swaggered to the stairs.

Heading back to my apartment I let my mind go blank not wanting to dissect the agreement that was just concocted. I ran into the door expecting it to open automatically. It was locked.

"Stefan!" I banged. "Open the door!"

* * *

This picture brought about a sense of déjà vu. I was seated at my vanity only this time instead of applying layers of foundation, I was wrapping my hair. Stefan loomed in the threshold having traded his jeans and button down for a white ribbed tank and his Virginia Tech basketball shorts. The apartment was quiet a part from the low hum of the air conditioning, and the occasional creak and groan the walls and floors made. Stretching out its bones Grams explained when I was little and asked why her house made so much noise.

Diverting my gaze to Stefan he bit into a Snicker's bar. "What?"

"Nothing," he chewed. "Wanna a bite?"

"No thanks. I just brushed my teeth. I'm assuming Amber left."

"She did, which means I missed out on a wonderful opportunity to get laid," there was a definite sharpness to his tone.

"Aww, poor thing."

"It's cute that you act like you're hurting on my benefit."

Laying a hand over my heart, I made a sympathetic face. "I am _crushed_ on your behalf."

He snickered. "Whatever."

"Don't tell me that my presence scared her off, or did she not feel right dropping her drawers because her best friend had himself a jolly good time?"

Stefan tilted his head, a contemplative look on his face. He shrugged and sank his teeth into chocolate, nuts, and caramel once more. "What would Jared have to do with her getting screwed righteously?"

"I'm glad you're so confident in your skills."

Stefan guffawed. "There haven't been any complaints. Well," he trailed off and I knew exactly what, but more specifically _who_ he was thinking about.

Grabbing my silk scarf, I tied it around my head and rose from my vanity bench.

"Another person's faults are not yours, Stefan."

He dug a piece of candy bar from his back molars with his tongue. I could see that plainly enough.

"I know that."

I shuffled over to him, stretching my arms above my head. He watched me, I watched him.

"You know, it's not too late for you to pack a bag and come with me," Stefan waggled his brows.

I was always down for a road trip, but he confronting his mother about her pending nuptials was a private matter, and I didn't want to impose on that. I explained:

"Regrettably I have a looming deadline and I need to get as much accomplished on this article that I can before Monday. Sorry."

That sucks," Stefan lowered his gaze to the floor. "You'll be here with Damon…if he returns this century."

"Ugh, don't remind me of that. If you decide to extend your trip I can't promise you'll have a brother by the time you come home."

Stefan snickered. Lifting his head once more I stared into those chameleon eyes. Stefan had enviably long eyelashes that sheltered orbs that could one minute be wounded, the next—cold, transform into boyish giddiness. At the moment his irises were a thin circle of bluish-gray.

He slipped an arm around my waist coaxing me forward into a hug. Stefan rested the bottom of his chin on the crown of my head. "Did you really enjoy yourself tonight? Jared looked hella nervous when he was here for all of five seconds."

"I did have a good time," my voice was quiet. "I think he was just a little embarrassed to get caught necking with a woman he barely knows."

"You sure as hell didn't look nervous. In fact you seemed to be gloating," Stefan accused.

I arched back to look up. "I make no apologies for enjoying being kissed by a man who knows what he's doing."

Stefan grunted.

"Jealous?" I asked point blank.

"Nope, Jared's not my type," he grinned. "But…he might be Damon's."

Yeah, I had that same thought. Looks like I'm going to have to keep an eye on that one.

"Anyways," Stefan continued, "before Amber left she wondered if you and Jared might be interested in double dating. I told her that I'd run it by you."

Ha, nope. "Jared and I just came to an agreement to be friends, get to know each other. So that'll be a negative on the double dating thing. That just adds all kinds of pressure neither one of us is ready to handle. At least for the foreseeable future."

I felt the air rush out of Stefan's lungs in relief.

It was a rare thing for me to be on the same page and especially so early in the dating game with a guy that I was honestly intrigued by. Dating could sometimes feel like the preparations of war. There were certain points you needed to hit, conquer before moving on to the next encampment. You constantly had to be on the watch for enemy insurgents typically in the form of busy careers, bossy friends who got into your head that the person you were feeling, well _they_ weren't feeling which meant they're wrong for you, clingy parents, or ghosts from prior relationships that hadn't been completely exorcized. And not only were there external forces you had to fight your way through, but internal ones that could lead to self-sabotage because some of us believed we either weren't worthy of love, or was only worthy of the love that we thought we deserved, which often proved to be a selfish and destructive love.

Maybe purposely continuing to see Jared even on a friend level might prove to be detrimental, but there was only one clear way to find that out. Besides, I wasn't going to literally sit around and wait for Stefan to get a clue.

Detangling from my roommate's comforting embrace, I shuffled to my bed, turned back the covers. Tapping the space next to me, Stefan hesitated before joining. He didn't climb under the covers, though, but propped himself up against the headboard.

Adjusting the pillows, I wiggled around until I was comfortable.

"It's not too late to squeeze in an episode of _The Fall_ ," Stefan suggested.

"What time are you planning on getting on the road?"

"Around seven."

Grabbing my phone noting the time was just a few minutes before midnight. "All right. If you think you can manage on five hours of sleep before making a four hour drive."

"I'll be fine," Stefan searched for the remote and, once finding it, clicked on my TV, pulling up Netflix. "Not that long ago I was pulling all-nighters studying for exams and writing ten page research papers on twenty minutes of sleep."

"College was some time ago, old man," I fluttered my lashes.

Stefan stared at me askance. "It wasn't _that_ long ago. And don't forget between the two of us, you're the older one."

I laughed and shoved him. "Only by nine months." My birthday was in February his is in November.

"That's how long it takes a fetus to incubate. I'd say that's a huge gap. You'll get your AARP membership card long before I do."

"Yeah, and who'll be asking to borrow it to get some discounts?"

"Hey, as long as you know what you're in for."

The opening theme music for _The Fall_ began playing drawing my attention. This show was addictive and being a fan of Gillian Anderson, and having a bit of a severe crush on Jamie Dornan enabled my cravings for a good show with a psychosexual investigative premise.

"Let the drooling begin," Stefan sat aside the remote.

I shushed him. He noisily crinkled that stupid candy bar wrapper earning him a chastising eye roll.

I think I may have lasted all of twenty minutes into the show before I was zonked out. Yet at some point, a pair of lips touched my forehead, and a jumble of words managed to penetrate my unconscious ears.

"I'm missing you already, pretty girl."

* * *

Five grueling hours of flipping through journals, online periodicals on hypersexuality, my eyes officially crossed. Fingertips burning, neck aching, stomach rumbling from hunger, it was definitely time to give work a break.

Picking up my phone I shot a text to my bestie, my bestie with boobs—that is. She quickly responded back agreeing to grab an early dinner. It was time for me to come up for air.

True to his word, Jared had texted me when he made it home though I hadn't seen his text until I woke up. When I replied back he inquired about my plans, and I told him I'd be work's bitch today. Stefan had also sent me a text letting me know he made it to Mystic Falls safe and sound, but had stopped the Grill—the only decent restaurant in town—for a bite to eat. It was a stall tactic, plain and simple.

Yet the reminder of food got me out of my head and into my shoes.

I left Damon snoring on the couch since he didn't get in until ten in the morning.

Rosa Mexicano was the spot for guacamole made fresh right in front of you. I had a taste for that and their chicken tacos, and that's where I asked my best friend Suhad Hounsou to meet me for dinner. She beat me there as her punctuality was much better than mine. Her smile was radiant as she stood and we hugged like we hadn't seen each other the week before.

Suhad, with her gorgeous almond brown skin and long naturally curly hair, squeezed lemon juice into her ice cold water. Our waiter was enamored with her, blushing horribly every time he approached and inquired if we needed anything though he barely left us alone long enough to need a refill or more napkins.

Seated outside as we were, I was distracted by the pedestrians—especially those who were smoking, and of course flies and pigeons who were hoping for a crumb to chow on.

"So what's been going on with you?" I got right down to trading information like this was Wall Street.

Suhad shrugged and sipped her drink. "The business is doing well. In a few more months I hope it'll be stable enough to run itself. I'm long overdue for a vacation."

My girl was an entrepreneur and sold natural beauty and healthcare products. Yes, a lot of companies boasted about their products being organic, made with 100% natural ingredients, but Suhad's products came from plants that flourished in ancient Egypt. How that was possible was a trade and family secret. One she was embargoed against sharing with any outside or third party not bearing the Hounsou name.

I was one of her investors and customers. Her stuff was the shit. Could make the most dry or cracked skin softer than a baby's tush, or settle an upset stomach without a litany of side effects.

"That's good."

Suhad nodded, her dark brown eyes lowering to her appetizer. "Anni is in town."

"Ugh, the bitter banshee." Anni short for a really complicated name was the sister of Suhad's boo, Hamun.

My dear friend chuckled. "I swear Anni treats Hamun like he's _her_ husband or something. She's in town for her annual 'inspection'," Suhad air quoted. "I don't know when she actually plans on returning to her bridge, the troll." I snickered. "Every time I turn around, Bonnie that chick is in my face reminding me that she's Hamun's sister like I could ever forget. She undermines all my decisions and stays giving me unwanted advice."

"Have you told Hamun, has he seen for himself?"

"I don't think he notices because that's how his family's always been. _Super_ close. They've been extremely sheltered. It took a lot for his parents to agree for him to come to the States to continue his education."

"Hamun is damn near thirty. When is he going to get off the titty?"

Suhad laughed, "He's not that old."

"Close enough. He's twenty-five."

"He's their only son. They hold on to the old ways. They want him to marry a girl from a respectable—"

"—rich."

"—rich family," she forked black beans into her mouth. "They don't think I'm good enough. They haven't said it but you can tell when someone doesn't approve of you."

Chewing a bite of my taco, I asked, "In the long run, do you see it affecting your relationship?"

"Hamun loves his parents, obviously, and wants their approval, but…he's told me plenty of times he's not going to let anything come between us. I guess I'll just have to wait and see if he'll live up to his word."

"You guys have been going strong for a year and a half."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we haven't had problems. He's Egyptian and I'm Egyptian-Iranian born on American soil," she made a depreciating face. "To his parents I'm more American than anything else."

"That good old patriotism ruins everything, doesn't it?" I teased.

"Yeah, it does. What about you? Are you still seeing that Godric person?"

"No," I said emphatically arching my brows. "I've met someone new."

Suhad's eyes brightened. "You certainly don't waste any time, do you?"

"Eh, what can I say? I'm a rolling stone. His name is Jared Malone; he's a left-handed Pisces trust fund baby who's an artist. He's very… _nice_ ," I hinted suggestively.

Suhad, who had been poised to take a sip of her drink, halted the glass' journey to her full mouth. "How nice are we talking?"

In light of recent events I had to edit my response. "Nice in the sense that we're starting off on the same page."

"Meaning?"

"We're going to start off as friends and see where it goes from there."

Nodding in approval, Suhad took a sip of her water. "That's good but do you think you can manage?"

"Well…" I hefted a shoulder, "he makes me feel those kinds of feelings between your legs when you really want some. So that might be a challenge."

Suhad cackled behind a closed fist, dimples showing. "He makes you horny? Why don't you come out and say that? Freaking writers," she rolled her eyes.

"I was trying to be poetic."

"More like show how exhaustive your vocabulary is. Does Stefan know?"

Why was she bringing Stefan into this? "He does. Jared is actually best friends with the chick my roommate is seeing."

Suhad didn't comment but a look crossed her face that definitely made me squint.

"What?" I asked tersely.

"Nothing."

"Stefan doesn't dictate who I go out with it."

"I never said he did. From experience I know how much you value his opinion, and I recall you ended a relationship because Stefan and Logan…was his name right? Anyways, they didn't like each other so you ended it with Logan."

First of all, I had to remember who the hell Suhad was talking about. Sad, I know. After a few minutes of checking through my backlog of one-night _dates,_ minor relationships, and flybys, it came to me.

"Oh, _Logan._ Logan was an asshole who was using me to make his bitchy ex-girlfriend jealous. Stefan found out about it, and since I know he has more important things to do with his life than fabricate a lie to get me to break up with someone, I trusted his intel. Which proved to be right in the end. Would I like my best friend and future boyfriend to get along? Of course, but I'm not going to deny someone a chance just because _Stefan_ is in his feels about it."

Suhad lifted her glass in salute. "That's what I like to hear."

Her words gave me pause.

Staring into Suhad's shrewd, onyx eyes that seemed to be filled with an inordinate amount of amusement.

"Bonnie," Suhad began, "you and I have had each other's backs for a _long_ time giving me insight into what you like and what you don't. I've seen you date guys that were so undeserving of your time, and the good ones…well they weren't good enough for this or that reason, and I understand why."

I blinked rapidly. "I don't…"

"You do know what I'm talking about," her stare was unwavering. "The heart can be fickle but most of the time—fixed. Just decide early enough where it stands with this guy or…anyone else. So to this Jared person…good luck. You have a gargantuan pair of shoes to fill."

"Gargantuan? Really?"

My bestie winked. "Yep."

That was Suhad keeping it one hundred and I loved her unconditionally for it.

Chapter end

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Hi everyone. Here's the latest. Happy reading.

* * *

 **||Stefan||**

I drove as slow as possible and it still felt like I had sped all the way to Mystic Falls. Rolling past familiar stops brought back a sense of nostalgia where I couldn't wait to get the hell out of this small town and really see the world. Don't get me wrong. I loved the place where I was born and grew up, but small towns meant those who had small minds and goals for their lives, and everyone around you was a descendant of a founder just waiting their turn to take over the family business. Their ambition hardly extending beyond that. Breaking that particular mold was what drove me to be as studious as possible, and it paid off.

Driving past Mystic Grill—the one decent place to eat besides your grandmother's kitchen, made me think of the first day I saw Bonnie. Wait, it wasn't day it was night. I was home for the weekend and Bonnie had come for a visit with one of her friends who was a native. Damn, I can't remember the chick's name to save my life; clearly she failed to make a memorable impression on me. Anyways, Bonnie had walked into The Grill, and it wasn't one of those clichéd moments where all activity stopped and people gawked. She did command attention because she was new, shiny, and bouncy which the football players appreciated. The restaurant had been swamped that night but there was a vacant stool beside me at the bar.

My first thought upon seeing her was…damn she's tiny. I've seen small, doll-sized girls before (I'm not obtuse) but hardly any who had the body of a woman. I told myself not to gape like a perv yet my attention invariably crept its way back to her.

Bonnie and her friends shouted to one another and went in opposite directions possibly scoping out the place for a table. She walked right past me, pleated skirt swishing (and before you ask how I know it was a pleated skirt or how I even knew what a pleated skirt was, I was schooled early enough by a former girlfriend obsessed with clothes). Bonnie strolled past me and I turned on the stool and said:

"Need a place to sit?"

She stopped abruptly and faced me. One meticulously arched brow lifted along her forehead that dimpled. She pointed at the stool I pulled out. "Are me and my friends supposed to share that stool?"

"I'm sure you could make it work."

"And fulfill a pervert's fantasy."

"Everyone has dreams, don't they," I offered her a smile and my hand. "Stefan Salvatore."

Bonnie gripped mine in return and replied, "Bonnie Bennett."

We started talking, chatting one another up discovering we were both seniors in college attending school in DC. She was at American University while I was stationed at GW. Her friends managed to find her and they started flirting with me, which I obliged being the southern gentleman that I am, but honestly Bonnie was the only one who held me captivated. She had…has the most beautiful smile. I couldn't stop staring at her mouth while she talked. I managed to slip my number in her hand before she was carted away by the Bella mafia. At the time I did so, I wondered if she thought my intentions were to arrange a one-night stand. I wouldn't have minded. I am a guy. I never told her or anyone this but I may have fallen a little bit in love with her on the night we met. However, that burgeoning sensation was lost in the maelstrom that was the nation's capital once I resumed my studies. I never expected Bonnie to put my number to use, but she did a few weeks later.

Our friendship grew like a beanstalk and we've been one another confidantes ever since. I had learned a lot about Bonnie. That she was this bubbly, strangely weird and entertaining delight who could hold her liquor. Like it was unwise to feed Gizmo after a certain time, don't get Bonnie mad because your testicles would live to regret it.

Thinking of her made me wish I had dragged Bonnie along with me if only to provide a buffer. I didn't know what this little visit may bring, or if it would have an impact on anything. I certainly wasn't going to hold my breath. I was my mother's son and my mother's stubbornness could outshine Giuseppe Salvatore's, and if you knew him then you'd know that was saying _a lot_.

I turned off Main Street and followed the business highway to the forest-y hills of Mystic Falls. Deer were plentiful and liked to jump out and surprise unsuspecting motorists. Heat waves radiated off the pavement and the cloying scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass clogged my sinuses. But it was home and I may have missed it.

Blasting Pearl Jam as I am a grunge enthusiast, I pounded a fist on the steering wheel rocking out, but mostly as a distraction. With each mile bringing me closer to home, the tension began coiling around my muscles, tightening them, squeezing. It had been a little over a year since I visited the sprawling mansion my mother moved into once the divorce from my dad was finalized. I spent most major holidays with Bonnie and her family as they saw me as an extension of her, and my mom traveled a lot overseas so none of us was truly heartbroken we didn't gather together like a traditional family.

I made the final turnoff and drove down the long, winding driveway that led to a house that was more museum than anything else. It was gauche, ostentatious and didn't make anyone feel welcome. Yet my mother bought it with the intention of turning it into a bed and breakfast, but that idea never came to fruition. Once she found how much it cost to run a B&B—that is. Now, my mom rented it for parties and weddings.

Killing the engine, I sat for a moment taking in the scene, reacquainting myself. The hedges were expertly trimmed; the manicured lawn a rich bright green in color, and the garden that was right of the house was thick and full with fruits and vegetables that could be plucked off the vine right this minute.

Rising from my vehicle, I looked to the left and there he was. The asshole I couldn't bear to look at.

Enzo stood appearing like a principle actor from a Martin Scorsese film about power brokers. He was talking to the gardener, I think. For once he was clean-shaven. Hair parted and slicked back like this was the gotdamn fifties. A pair of shades covered his eyes and he leaned his weight on a golf club. I was mildly surprised it wasn't gold plated. It would appear my mother's millions had given him some culture, and he was taking advantage of an advantageous lifestyle.

Fucker.

The sight of him and his shit eating grin when he saw me made me sick. I waited for the impulse of hatred to build up like pus, and for my mind to play a reel of his betrayal. I was pissed off, but not so much at what Enzo had done to me personally, but the fact he was involved with my mother and that she allowed it knowing his history with her sons. Where was the fucking loyalty?

I ignored him as I trudged inside and it occurred to me—belatedly that Enzo hadn't seemed caught off guard to see I was here. Guess he figured I'd come sooner or later after finding out he embezzled his way into my mom's bleeding heart.

"Mom!" I bellowed up the staircase once entering the foyer.

It took a while before Lily Salvatore emerged from the depths of the house and came to stand at the top of the stairs. Dressed in a cardigan set and jeans she looked like a pampered housewife with too much time on her hands, making bad investments. My mother was beautiful. Her forehead and cheeks were blanketed in freckles that made her look younger than her actual biological age. I stared up into a pair of blue eyes Damon inherited, and met my mother halfway.

"Stefan…this is a surprise. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" she pulled me into an awkward hug.

"Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I let you know beforehand," I pulled out of her embrace.

Lily peered around me. "Is Damon with you?"

"No, it's just me."

Lily smiled tremulously as she ran her hands down my arms. "How long are you going to be a guest?"

Interesting choice of words. I thought this was my home? "Only for the night."

"You must be hungry. I can have the cook prepare something for you."

"You have a cook now?"

"Well," pale cheeks reddened in a blush. We walked back down the stairs, hooked a left to make our way to the kitchen. "Lorenzo insisted."

My eyes rolled. "Of course he did and about _Lorenzo_ ," I said snidely.

My mom came to a stop before we reached the entryway of the kitchen. Her face said to bear with her, but her eyes were letting me know that she was prepared to go to guerilla warfare with me because her mind was made up about marrying the prick.

"I know how you feel, Stefan and I know how all of this looks…"

I held up a hand to stop her. "You don't know how I feel, mom," I took her gently by the arm and pulled her down the opposite end of the hall and nudged her inside the first vacant room.

It was a small office that smelled of cinnamon and leather with built-in shelves filled with books, a desk with a closed MacBook on top. An Aubusson rug was rolled out beneath two studded arm chairs. I directed my mom to a have a seat on one, but remained standing on my feet. I brooded for a moment on how best to articulate how fucked up I thought it was she was marrying the guy who deliberately slept with my girlfriend on my birthday for no other reason than to be petty and inflict pain.

"Stefan?"

"You should know why I'm here," I snatched the plug on her microphone.

"I have a general idea. It was only a week ago that I told you the news."

"I don't know what Enzo's said or how he's convinced you that he has genuine feelings for you that you've agreed to believe him, and not only that but to become his wife," I grit out. "He's twenty-five years younger than you and he's betrayed not one, but _two_ of your sons. How could you ever think it was smart or wise to let this man be in any part of your life when he's proven he's as trustworthy as a hungry snake?"

My mom didn't respond right away nor did I expect her to. Lily was much like me, or it was a trait I inherited from her where we measured our responses before speaking any of them orally. Being on the receiving end of it I could now better see how maddening our thought processes was to those who were silver tongued, and quick-witted.

She balled her hands on her lap and gnawed into her bottom lip before flicking her gaze to me. "Lorenzo has his faults like anyone else, and I'm well aware of the damage he's done to his friendships with you and Damon."

"And…?"

"It was a situation that had nothing to do with me, son, and it still doesn't."

At that I scoffed. "If someone hurts me then they're also hurting you," I qualified. "And let's get one thing straight. Enzo was _never_ my friend, mom, but he knew how much I loved Valerie, and he slept with her anyways. _That's_ the kind of man you want to marry? A younger version of Giuseppe?"

Yeah it may have been dirty slinging my father's repeated infidelity in my mother's face, but she needed a wakeup call and it wasn't going to happen if I applied filters to the truth.

Looking down, Lily winced yet nodded making her curtain of pin straight raven hair bounce. "He's not the same irresponsible Lorenzo you knew, Stefan." She made eye contact once more. Her voice grew stronger with her conviction. "He was so…hurt by what his family did to him that lashing out at those who cared about him was the only way he knew how to communicate."

"I don't need excuses. The man's disingenuous. Once a con artist _always_ a con artist. Enzo only cares about himself and he's not even good at doing that!"

My mother pushed to her feet then. Resolve hardening her shell. "If you came all this way thinking slandering Lorenzo would convince me to change my mind…then I'm sorry. You wasted a trip. We're in love, Stefan. Whether you wish to believe that or not, that's on you. If you want to eat, you know where the kitchen is. If you want to stay here, I'd be more than happy to have you, but only if you keep your negativity to yourself. Otherwise you can go back to DC."

She left and I had a mind to pick up a vase and smash it on the floor, but what was this childish display gonna do?

The door to the office opened and I didn't need to see who it was. I knew. "What?" I snapped.

Enzo had his back braced against the door when I finally graced him with my handsome mug. The absence of fear like he was about to piss his pants just by being in the same room with me, nearly made me punch his gotdamn teeth in. He could _at least_ feign being worried about what I might to do to him in his sleep.

"Stefan," Enzo began in that British accent of his. "It's been a long time."

"Not long enough to keep you away from my mother."

"Contrary to how I've been in the past…I do love Lily. She's the best thing to happen to me in a long time. My feelings for her are genuine and I'm only explaining myself because I know I did some foul shit to you and Damon. It's the least I can do."

Scoffing, I came to stand toe-to-toe with Enzo who straightened his spine. I still had yet to hear an apology from him, and really I didn't want it. I poked him in the chest. "I don't trust you. I don't like you. And I _will_ convince my mother to get a pre-nup since she's refuses to see you for the disloyal motherfucker that you are," I shoved him out of the way and yanked the door open.

"Stefan."

I paused, glared at him.

"I'm not marrying Lily for her money. I have my own."

"Oh, so your sister has lifted your disinheritance, then?"

A muscle in Enzo's jaw twitched and I smiled nastily. He must have forgotten that I knew his grandfather stiffed him in his will leaving the Riodan family fortune to Enzo's younger sister Emmeline who despised him because he fucked around with her best friend, knocked her up, and disappeared. Emmeline's friend miscarried at seven weeks sparing Enzo a lifetime of court appearances for failure to pay child support. This douche somehow always got off easy.

"That's what I thought," were my parting words as I stomped upstairs to the room that had been mine. The room in the attic.

* * *

I went out to Mystic Grill for dinner, watched whatever game was playing on ESPN hardly tasting my food. Coming here had been a waste, which I kind of predicted. Lily was determined to marry Enzo and Enzo was determined to prove he was a changed man. There was the saying that two could keep a secret if one was dead, and since we were all alive it meant secrets and lies would come out of the darkness soon enough.

Pulling out my cell, I figured I'd give Bonnie a call to see what she was doing. Hopefully she and Damon were behaving themselves not letting one of their legendary mortal kombat matches destroy our new couch.

She answered on the next to last ring before her voice mail took over. "Hello…Stefan…boy stop!"

The TV was on concert loud and I frowned wondering what the hell she was up to, and who was 'boy'. Bonnie giggled and the volume of the TV lowered.

"Sorry about that. Damon is trying to get me to try on a strap on."

Okay. "Why does he even have one? His equipment stopped working?" I chuckled.

Bonnie laughed. "No, and it's a long story I never asked for details but he felt the need to share. I've never met someone so damn obsessed with sex. I truly believe he's an addict."

"Probably," I muttered.

Having the knowledge that Bonnie was with Damon did little to quell that little flare of possessive territorialism that she was entertaining another male guest during my absence. Since it was Damon, I guess I could let it go for now. I mean…she wasn't my girlfriend, I knew, but I wasn't always completely comfortable with her hanging out with guys alone. I knew what we were like and Bonnie was petite. That made me sound like a sexist, but her safety was important to me.

"I've never pretended to be anything else other than myself," I heard Damon defend his character. "Unlike you two."

"How are you?" Bonnie came back on the line, seemingly paying my brother's rebuke no mind.

"Honestly, I'm bored. I should have made you take the trip down with me."

"Aww, are you missing me?"

"A little bit. I'll see you in a few hours. I might even get on the road tonight. I don't…I can't go back to that house."

"How was it? Seeing your mom and Enzo?"

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I blew out a breath. "It was a waste. I'd like to give my mother the benefit of the doubt, say she's been brainwashed, but I don't know. She's convinced Enzo has done a complete one-eighty. That he's not the ruinous ass from all of three years ago."

"Hmm," Bonnie murmured sympathetically. "Maybe he's not."

My nose wrinkled. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours, but you weren't a witness to their romance."

"Are you saying that with a straight face?"

"No," she giggled. "Look, Stef you don't know the full story to be able to judge. And there's little to change the heart of a woman in love. My next question for you is…are you going to attend the wedding?"

"Better question, will I even be invited. I'm not sure if Lily wants to risk me being there when the minister asks if anyone objects."

"You would do that to your mother?"

I didn't even have to brood over this one, "Absolutely. But does anyone ever stop a wedding? I'd be removed and the proceedings would continue as if I sneezed. Now back to this strap on my brother is trying to convince you to wear."

A waiter walking by did a double take, shooting me a weird look. Bonnie's laughter penetrated my eardrums and it conjured an image of her wearing a dildo. I could honestly say it was something I never, _ever_ thought about picturing. Accidentally thinking of her strutting around in her birthday suit happened during those special moments where Bonnie traipsed around in itty-bitty shorts where her rounded ass cheeks played peek-a-boo, and her well-worn shirts stretched across her tits and her erect nipples tinted the fabric. I was a hot blooded fairly virile man. It was going to happen, nefarious thoughts about my roommate who had a body built for sex.

Even now I could feel my dick stiffening and knew I needed to change the nature of my thoughts. Getting hard while thinking of Bonnie was becoming a more common occurrence.

"Oh, god can we talk about something else," Bonnie negotiated. "I'm never wearing a strap on so we can dead this idea right now."

"You're no fun," Damon said.

"Other than engaging in banter with my brother do you have any other plans for the night?"

Bonnie yawned. "No. I was just going to lounge on the couch and get caught up on the shows I DVR'd. What about you?"

"There's not much to do in Mystic Falls after dark. There's a dance lounge ten miles out, but you're not with me to guarantee I'd have somewhat of a decent time."

"Somewhat? Now I'm offended because it sounds like you're implying you don't have fun when we hit up the night life."

"You normally ditch me to shake your ass on any halfway decent looking young professional who asks you to dance."

"Jelly?" she teased.

Jealousy was another emotion I had been experiencing lately when it came to my roommate. I think I pulled off a decent job of acting like I wasn't affected by the fact Bonnie had had an awesome date with "McDreamy" Jared Malone, and caught the two of them kissing. I had seen her make out with guys in the past, and other than frowning because who liked watching their friend being macked on, it didn't stick with me. Not with the intensity as it did last night.

Seeing Bonnie with Jared and seeing how into him—and how quickly—she was, so okay I got a little heated. Her glow couldn't be contained and it bothered me and I was bothered that I was bothered. However, Amber had been in attendance so I had to limit showing my ass, and I always endeavored to be a gentleman even while seething with righteous fury. Plus, I still had to live with Bonnie at the end of the day so that meant keeping a tight lid on things. I could multi-task like that.

Words Damon said to me…that I treated Bonnie like my girlfriend, reins I had to pull them. That certainly wasn't intentional. She just…stirred something innate that wanted to take care of her, and I saw nothing wrong with that.

"Maybe I am," I tossed out because goading one another was a favorite pastime of ours.

"Then what are you going to do about that, Stefan?" just like that she changed the game with the sultry timbre of her voice.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Mentally I was picturing Bonnie clamming up. She did from time to time, but when she was tipsy or just in a generally happy mood, anything was liable to slip from her mouth.

"I know you're always ready to brawl when a man gets too familiar with my person," she giggly reprimanded, "but…ah let me get back to you on that."

I knew it and snickered. At that precise moment I just happened to look toward the entrance and my jaw nearly hit the floor. The fuck is she doing here? The last gotdamn person I ever thought to see or come across on the weekend I happened to decide to come home just had to walk through the doors. Great! Perfect! This weekend was blowing on all cylinders. I could hear Bonnie buzzing away in my ear, which I tuned out, wasn't listening to a single thing she was chattering about.

Ducking in the booth, I chastised myself. _What the hell are you doing, Stefan?_ My hair was too recognizable and hiding behind menus—no that wouldn't look weird at all, asshole. If I were lucky, the hostess would lead her, my ex to another part of the restaurant.

Of course I had no such luck as Valerie was being directed to my area. I turned my head hoping she might overlook me altogether, but again the profile was too recognizable.

"Stefan!" Bonnie yelled.

"Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, what are our plans for Memorial Day weekend?"

Squeezing the bridge of my nose, my heart stupidly began pounding. Her perfume hadn't changed. I could smell that as plain as day as she drifted closer. I shifted even more in the booth, growing real interested in studying the wood grooves of the partition.

"Stefan?"

It wasn't Bonnie's voice but a British one saying my name that time. Crap.

"The beach…ah…Ocean City," I replied to Bonnie's question. "One of my buddies from college has a timeshare."

"Stefan?" Valerie persisted in getting my attention. Can't people accept when they are being willfully ignored, take the L, and keep it moving?

I knew the faster that I dealt with Valerie the quicker she could continue on with her business. Turning my head in her direction, a crease between her brows fleshed out and she smiled, but then frowned as if she remembered that we were bitter exes, not the kind who parted amicably. It wasn't irreconcilable differences that ripped us apart.

Valerie swallowed and motioned to the hostess she'd find her table. "Hi."

"Hey, Val," I deadpanned.

Bonnie retorted succinctly, "Val? Is that bitch there?"

"Yes."

As close as Valerie was standing at my table she probably heard Bonnie. If she did it wasn't showing on her face.

"You're home for the weekend?" Valerie questioned. I nodded. "Oh…well…it's good to see you, Stefan."

I didn't say anything.

Bonnie chirped, "Whatever you do, don't invite her hoe ass to sit down or offer to buy her a drink."

I chortled.

Fidgeting with the strap of her handbag, the awkwardness was as thick as glue between us.

Most would consider Valerie a plain Jane, the only thing really going for her was her accent. To me, at the time we met she was a kindred spirit, had a taste for more but was too timid to go out and get it, but if pushed she stood her ground. Looking at her now, the magnetism that drew us together I didn't feel or sense a drop of it. She was just a face in the crowd, one of a million. It felt good to view her dispassionately.

"Did you want to say something else, Val? I'm on the phone having a very important conversation, and I'd like to get back to it."

Her throat worked as she swallowed, color rose to her cheeks. "Sorry…I didn't mean to disturb you. I guess it would be pointless to say, see you later."

"Pointless and unnecessary," I added. "Bye, Valerie."

She didn't hesitate to scurry away, strawberry blonde hair fluttering behind her.

"Stefan?" Bonnie said.

"I'm here."

"Talk to me."

My hands weren't shaking which was a vast improvement from the last time I laid eyes on Valerie. It had been a week after catching her, legs wrapped around Enzo while he pounded into her like a lecherous fiend. The euphoria on her face had been seared into my brain that it seemed acid would be the only solution strong enough to get rid of it. Valerie had shown up on my doorstep a sniffling, snotty disheveled mess begging for clemency, sprouting she couldn't rationally explain how she ended up boning the man I hated.

I had vibrated with anger. I really feared I'd blackout and, upon gaining consciousness, Valerie's mangled corpse would be shriveled up at my feet. We had words, a screaming match really, and I kicked her ass out of my life for good.

Valerie had been the first girl I fell in love with, the girl I wanted to marry one day, make some cute babies after becoming established in my career. Well, her infidelity blew that strawberry dream to shit.

"I'm all right, Bonnie," I dug in my pocket and slapped some cash on the table. Mystic Grill had lost its appeal.

"What are you going to do now?"

Leaving the restaurant, I waltzed out into the stifling humidity. "Find some good liquor and get wasted. Or…I may just get on the road. There's no reason for me to stick around Mystic Falls another minute."

"If you do decide to come home, make sure you're completely sober and you have the energy to drive."

"I know. I'll call you later," hanging up I pocketed my phone and resumed walking toward my car.

"Stefan…wait!"

Her again. Deep sigh.

Pivoting I faced Valerie. She wore the expression of a woman who spent a lifetime watching Lifetime movies where the repentant, tragic heroine was about to pour out her heart to the aggrieved suitor who had been betrayed by the hands of love. Give me a freaking a break. That shit wasn't going to work on me.

"What?"

She kept a good amount of distance between us, rubbing the palm of her left hand on her thigh, a nervous habit of hers. "I know it's your wish to never see or speak to me again, and I've…apologized countless time for doing what I did, and I'm still sorry for it. It was one of the worst mistakes of my life, but…I miss you, Stefan."

I could tell Valerie was sincere but it did nothing to my heart.

"That's wonderful," I replied flippantly.

"Don't you miss or think about us at all?"

I averted my gaze. Valerie took it as a sign to come closer.

"You do, don't you?" she was even closer now. "We were so good together and if…if you were to forgive me…we could take things slow…start over. Be friends again."

When I looked at her, I'm sure my eyes were blank because that's how I felt when it came to her. "For about a period of six months to a year I thought about you every day, Valerie. I thought about how I met and fell in love with this extraordinary girl, but then she broke my heart. My thoughts ranged from getting back at you by having revenge sex with your best friend…filming it and sending it to you."

Valerie inhaled sharped, nostrils flared.

"I thought about burning your image in effigy. I've thought of a lot of things, but now I don't anymore because I have no use for you in my life. Not as a friend, or even a passing acquaintance. I don't miss what we had because," I smiled, "I have something better in a little apartment in DC."

Valerie's back went up and she sneered, "That Bonnie girl."

This conversation was over as far as I was concerned, "Take care of yourself, Val."

Fifteen minutes later my headlights lit up the front of the boardinghouse. My mom and her boy-toy fiancé were laughing, drinking, and playing backgammon. Taking the stairs two at a time I swept inside my bedroom and picked up my bag. I hadn't actually unpacked. It was if my subconscious let me know that we wouldn't be staying overnight.

Shouldering it, I did a sweep just to make sure I wasn't leaving anything of value.

Again, Enzo snuck into a room I occupied. Jaw hardened, I eyeballed him. "What do you want, man?"

"Lily and I…we were talking…about the wedding."

My wagging head stopped him. "I don't want to _hear_ anything about your stupid wedding. Not now. I saw your old acquaintance."

Enzo quirked a brow. "Who?"

"Valerie."

He became stone quiet.

"I'm assuming you know she now lives in Mystic Falls," I said.

"I may have seen her once or twice."

"Really."

"And not in the way you're thinking."

"So you fuck her and don't offer to buy her lunch? You're a keeper."

Enzo balled a hand, sniffed. "If I was interested in more trust me…she would have given it to me."

My molars mashed together but then I let it go. "Touché."

"She moved back here for you," he pointed out.

"She wasted her time. And how do you know that? She tell you that?"

My mother's fiancé hunched a shoulder. "She didn't need to, Stefan. It was written all over her face." Pause. "You're leaving, I see."

"Yep."

"Are you going to say goodbye to Lily?"

I laughed sardonically. "I see you aren't wasting any time trying to act like my damn stepfather. Enzo," I walked up to him so he'd know I was being clear and a hundred percent real with him. "You can walk around in the clothes my mom bought you, drive the cars, live in this sprawling mansion, but you'll always be gutter trash to me."

A glint flashed in his obsidian eyes and I saw the old Enzo, the one who was ready to scrap and fuck your sister afterwards rear his head.

I beat him to it, head butting him. He went down, groaning and holding his nose. I smiled when I saw blood seeping between his fingers.

Stepping over his crumbled form, I made it to the atrium. "Mom, I'm out."

Lily rose from the couch strolling to join me. "Stefan, you just got here," she was surprisingly incredulous. "You don't have to leave."

"I'm afraid I do because if I stay well…" both of our gazes trailed to Enzo who pounded down the stairs. "It was you who said I should go back to DC if I couldn't control my negativity. Just taking you up on your suggestion."

My mom gasped at seeing Enzo's already swelling and bloody nose. She flew to her fiancé's side, petting him while Enzo stared at me with murder in his eyes.

"You're a prick, Stefan. Can't let bygones be bygones," he chided.

"Considering I've yet to hear you apologize for what you've done, and show real remorse for it…guess I'm going to be a prick."

No further words needed to be said. I kissed my mother on the cheek and left with her calling my name chasing after my heels.

* * *

It was a little after midnight by the time I made it to DC, inserting the key to unlock my apartment. I would have been home an hour earlier if it weren't for getting caught in Fredericksburg traffic. My eyes were bloodshot and felt drier than sandpaper. Drinking Redbull by the ounce and munching on Skittles, which I probably shouldn't have done because I felt hyper as shit, my foot had been lead on the gas pedal.

Opening the door, the smell of chicken parmesan and Bonnie's shower gel caused my mouth to start watering, and stomach to growl.

She was awake, in the kitchen, and glanced at me not the least bit surprised that I was home.

Dropping my duffle near the door, I switched on the alarm. I spied the couch thinking Damon would be drooling on it, but all three cushions were free and clear.

"He's staying overnight in his condo," Bonnie answered my yet asked question.

"What are you still doing up?"

"I was hungry."

"So you're eating chicken parmesan this late at night?"

Bonnie smiled and resumed what she was doing. "It's not night, Stefan."

Right, it was technically morning. I meandered into the kitchen. My eyes fell to take in her curvy legs poking out of a pair of exercise shorts. Chest expanding on a deep inhalation it took more effort than necessary to bring my gaze to her back.

"Are you hungry?" she queried.

"Starving."

"There's enough to fix yourself a plate. You look like you could use a shower."

"If I take a shower I'll probably end up falling asleep. I haven't slept in close to twenty-four hours. Damn," that revelation coldcocked me.

I was beside her now, towering over my roommate.

"Delirium will start to kick in soon if it hasn't already," Bonnie peeked at me between long lashes.

That flash of familiar green was like a hook.

"Here," Bonnie slid a fork filled with marinara saturated noodles shrouded in melted cheese into my kisser. "Good?"

"Hell yeah," I chewed.

"What happened to your forehead?"

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"No, you have a knot," she reached up to touch the bruise, but I caught her hand.

Swallowing the bite of food, I said, "I head butted Enzo as a sort of 'welcome to the family' initiation."

Bonnie snickered, withdrew her hand from mine, and sliced into the breaded chicken. She fed me that piece before cutting one for herself. I was dead on my feet but determined to eat most of the food on Bonnie's plate as a sort of poetic justice for the times she embezzled me out of eating a well-balanced meal.

"Go hop in the shower, Stefan. You smell like a white boy."

I laughed. "I am a white boy."

"You know what I mean."

"It's not cool to stereotype, Bon," I teased.

"Oh, shut up. In the shower, now."

Holding my hands up, I skirted out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, shucking off clothes, and turning the shower on.

Emerging with a towel wrapped low around my waist, another I used to dry my hair, I stepped into my bedroom and saw a plate of steaming hot food waiting on one bedside table, and a tall glass of lemonade.

Dumping my ass on the edge of the bed, I picked up the fork and started shoveling, stopping every now and then to moan to alleviate the pressure in my taste buds. Bonnie knocked on the door before poking her head through the opening.

"Hey, your mom called while you were in the shower," she held up my cell phone.

I waved her inside and confiscated the phone once it was in reaching distance. I'd call her in the morning, but I did text her to let her know I made it home safely.

Bonnie joined me on the bed like I wasn't attired in a towel. The warmth of her body coupled with the shower I'd taken was making my lids heavier and heavier.

"You're exhausted," lithe fingers ran through my soaked hair. Tingling ran up and down my spine at her soft touch.

"Driving for eight hours total while confronting monsters from the past…it's draining."

"I was going to pester you but I'll save it."

I smirked. "Pester me about what?"

"Memorial Day. We didn't get to finish our discussion, but if we're headed to Ocean City I was wondering…" Bonnie gnawed her bottom lip, "I was wondering if it would be cool to invite Jared."

I blinked but it may have taken a full minute for me to open my eyes.

"Were you going to invite Amber?"

"No," the idea hadn't even crossed my mind.

Bonnie shrugged and leaned back, propping herself on her elbows. "Oh, well it's not like those two are joined at the hip and go to the same places and shit. But since we'll be staying at your friend's timeshare, I kind of want to get the okay before extending any invites."

My appetite was gone and I got up from the bed to throw on some shorts and a T-shirt. "You know Eddie. I'll give you his number and you can ask him yourself," my voice may have been a bit gruffer than intended.

Bonnie pushed to her feet. "You don't want Jared to tag along, do you?"

I glanced at her. "Honestly…no…'cause you just met the guy."

My roommate smiled and sashayed to the door. "Un-hun. There he is, ladies and gentlemen, Jealous Stefan. We've been waiting a long time for you."

I pitched a pair of socks at her to which Bonnie squealed. I deliberately dropped my towel and her squealing stopped.

"Do I honestly have anything to be jealous about?"

Bonnie eyed my jock, head titling to the side and that curious tongue of hers moistened the seal of her mouth. "No, I daresay you don't. _Damn._ "

Chapter end.

 **A/N: My Bonnie will always look when the merchandise is being showcased. *wink* All righty guys so I noticed that reviews for this have dropped…significantly. I understand not every chapter will warrant the same response or a response in general, but when things dip down it only makes me question what happened. *sighs* I'm all out of ideas on how to encourage people to review. But this is making me reevaluate something's moving forward and not just with this story but all my stories. Nevertheless, thank you for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: It's been forever. Many thanks for your patience and reviews, and also my apologies. I suffered with MASSIVE writer's block, couldn't decide whose POV I should start with and where things should go. I know there was an urgency to get to the *good* Stefonnie stuff, but I can't force something I'm not ready to take there in terms of development. The push and pull won't be ongoing. Trust me, I have your back. Here's the latest. It's told in both Bonnie and Stefan's POV. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: Characters (apart from my OC's) regrettably belong to the CW, butchered, neglected, tarred and feathered by JP. Copyright infringement is never intended.**

* * *

||Bonnie||

Scores of my Washingtonian brethren walked in a processional over herringbone brick beneath a canopy of clouds. The rumble of drums in the form of tires flying over manhole covers could be heard for miles on end. The bustle of life was irritating and adrenaline inducing symbiotically, but it chased away the lethargy I had been feeling since waking up too damn early. It was an annoying trend that had been happening all week now that the sun rose right at five forty-five in the gotdamn morning.

I dipped inside of a small café for a mid-afternoon meeting and a pick me up. I found a table as far from prying eyes and ears and waited. The jingle of the doorbell drew my attention.

Things were about to start.

Eli, which probably wasn't his real name, was something of an informant, more cipher than anything else, but he always managed to know things that were supposed to be top secret, and hush-hush. If the price was right, he'd sell his mother. For our meeting he shrugged on a semi-clean shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of dirty boots that emitted a rank odor anytime he moved his feet. I had been nice enough to buy him a cup of coffee—black with six sugars, but was withholding the pastrami on rye his gaze kept flickering to.

"I don't have long so let's make this quick," Eli began gruffly as he sat across from me.

"It's great to see you again," I mocked cheerfully.

Eli snorted and ran his index finger under his nose, sniffed. Ew.

As much as he was turning my stomach, the narc had invaluable information. I was considering doing undercover work on what it really meant to be a sugar baby. Pieces had been done, documentaries shot on living the escort lifestyle, staying in prison or jail overnight etcetera, but not many on being a "professional" sugar baby. There was the MTV _True Life_ episode that covered the topic, and sugar babies and daddies were featured on Dr. Phil, but that was nearly a decade ago.

If you knew the history of DC, you knew that DC politics and prostitution went hand-in-hand. The popular or unpopular opinion, depending on which side of the fence you stood on, believed being a sugar baby was the soft-core version of being a high priced hooker. I wanted to either debunk the myth or validate it. It was more of an individualistic business meaning there wasn't a madam or pimp you reported to. Or so claimed by the preliminary research I had already conducted. There were websites you could join, and there was even a support group, but as far as being truly organized, that was the gray area. To make my book believable I needed the experience. I had never done anything like this before and I was scared shitless, which meant I was probably on the right track.

"So you want to be a _maîtresse-en-titre…_ a chief mistress."

My bottom eyelid twitched. "No, a," I paused, looked around, lowered my voice, "a sugar baby."

Eli picked up his cup, sipped, "Mistress, whore, escort, sugar baby same damn difference. You want to know which marks are on the up and up and who to avoid, right? That'll be twelve large."

This uncouth asshole. I accidentally on purpose kicked his shin. He jumped and scowled. "Talk to Rosamund about that."

"I'm talking to you. I don't deal with suits."

"Eli," I practically growled in warning then let it go. Rosamund was my managing editor. It would be her call anyways and I knew she'd pay him whatever. "Fine, I'll talk to her. Do you have the list?"

Nodding his head, dandruff flakes fell and I grimaced. Eli gulped more coffee. He reached for his back pocket and withdrew a folded document. "Politicos or upper level managers of the DOD? There's even a few pretty boy or ladies if you're into that, CEOs."

"Just give me the list. I'll decide. They're clean, right, and I'm not only talking about their health."

Eli grinned and I wished he hadn't. "For the most part. If you want my suggestion go with number twenty-two. I think you'll like him," he finished his coffee and slid me the list.

I snatched it before he could take it back.

The scrape of his chair legs across the floor irritated my ears but I looked up at him.

"Have fun. You know my number if you need anything else and…I'll be looking for my deposit."

Slipping his shades on, Eli grabbed the sandwich I had forgotten all about, and booked it for the exit tucking his head down and speeding down the block.

I opened the list, examined the names. Number 22, he was joking, right? I shook my head. This would be my summer project to keep me occupied. And to preserve the integrity of my assignment I couldn't tell a soul about it. Not even Stefan. This would be interesting.

* * *

I was wet again. Mother Nature was on the rampage unleashing her children thunder, lightning, rain, and wind on us poor mortals. I was like sugar over heat. Melted and sticky. My shirt was plastered to my chest, droplets of rain fell off the bottom of my chin, my hands and bare legs were damp. Needless to say I needed a towel. I shook out my umbrella, which had pretty much been rendered useless, and propped it up in front of the door to dry.

"Gotdammit. _Shit_."

Ah, nothing like expletives when you first walk through the door after a day of hell and attempted murder by glaring. My stupid editor thought she knew everything, and several times I dug my nails into my legs to keep myself civilized. Some people were born to create and others were made to bludgeon your creativity. My editor was the latter and yes, I understood it was her job to make sure I was telling a concise story. Her ideas on how to manage the storytelling process left much to be desired.

Tossing my keys and shirking my footwear that were badly water damaged, I traipsed barefoot to the bathroom.

Stefan's back greeted me. I couldn't see what he was doing although I could see water rolling along his sepia skin, and soaking into the hem of his black jeans. His hair was wet, but it was undetermined if he were drenched from the rain or fresh out of the shower. As I peered around, I saw it. He had scraps and abrasions along his ribs, and he was fighting to bandage his fingers. He was speckled with blood and some had gotten on the floor and the closed toilet lid.

"Stefan what happened?"

He swung around to face me. He stared for a moment before refocusing on giving himself medical attention. "Some asshole decided to be an asshole and tried to push his way to the front of the metro. He knocked a woman down and I tried to break her fall. I did all right by landing on some idiot's bike. Why the fuck do people bring bicycles on the gotdamn train anyways?"

When Stefan was this irritated I knew it would be wise to let him simmer on his own. To give him space. Yet this time I would make an exception since he was injured.

"Do you need help?"

Stefan answered by pressing his lips together. He wasn't spitting, barking, or shifting from foot to foot for the time being. He had gone absolutely still.

He moved aside giving me access to the sink where I washed and dried my hands. I grabbed the peroxide and a gauze bandage saturating it, and turned to my roommate. His throat worked as he swallowed while a tick hammered in his jaw.

Stefan waited for the corresponding sting as he took a deep breath and I swabbed his bruised ribs.

"Shit," he hissed quietly.

The skin was broken and discoloring, but there weren't any serious cuts or gashes that would require stitches. His abs flexed and contracted with each breath he pulled and released from his lungs. The veins in his forearms and hands filled with blood and protruded beneath his dermis.

This was the closest we had been—proximity wise—since the night he returned from Mystic Falls and flashed me his goods. We weren't given the chance to dance awkwardly around one another since Stefan had to take a sudden trip out of town to Chicago for a training conference. Then out of nowhere one of his college buddies decided to elope and asked him to be a witness. Thus, he changed his outbound ticket from DC to Cali where his friend exchanged 'I do's' in Laguna Beach.

Stefan's eyes were on me the whole time whereas mine were on what I was doing. The heat steadily rose between us because we were both wet as hell inside of a cramped bathroom. I tossed the soiled gauze and covered his wound with a fresh one, securing it with tape.

"Were you hurt anywhere else?" I stared at my roomie from beneath my lashes.

Stefan drew his bottom lip into his mouth, released it. "I don't think so. Thank you, Bonnie."

"Anytime."

Without warning, Stefan drew me into his chest, arm weaving across my shoulders. He kissed my forehead, and I smiled thinking whatever weird tension that existed between us had been broken, cut like the electricity when you don't pay the bill.

Unfortunately my nipples chose _now_ to make themselves known, or perhaps they pebbled the minute I entered our air conditioned apartment, and being in this tight space crushed to Stefan's chest, I became aware of their erect state. There was no way he couldn't feel them and…ha-ha I felt his dick jump.

I waited for him to pull away and start rambling about irrelevant shit like how it was my turn to shop, or how I forgot to put something into the fridge, or how I ate his takeout leftovers. That wasn't me by the way. That was Damon.

His fingers curled around my chin, tilted it up, his mood ring irises were extra bright. "I'd be a bigger mess if you weren't around."

"That is true."

A boyish grin spread and Stefan kissed my forehead again, his lips lingered. "What do you want for dinner?"

Forget dinner, I needed a drink. My mouth was exceedingly dry. "I don't have a taste for anything, but you know I'll eat whatever you cook. You are cooking, right? You did get home first," I fluttered my lashes reminding him of our rule that whoever made it to home plate first was responsible for dinner.

A growl rumbled from his chest, and the arm around my shoulder dropped to my waist. "I gotta clean this mess up first. You need a shower. Use mine."

He pushed me into the hallway and grabbed the Lysol and went to work disinfecting.

I purified myself in the waters of…shit I didn't know where DC got its water from exactly. The Chesapeake, the Potomac, the Anacostia river? In any case I scrubbed with my almond scented gel, shaved my legs and underarms, and promptly exited stage left. The whole time though the assignment I was about to embark on was never far from my thoughts.

I'd have to update my wardrobe and my appearance. I'd call Suhad first thing in the morning to get her opinion on what I should do and who could do it for a fairly reasonable price.

Dressed in a comfortable pair of leggings and a T-shirt I haven't worn since high school, I joined Stefan in the kitchen where he manned the stove. Pots were bubbling, things were sizzling, and the exotic blend of spices (that I had to tell him to use repeatedly) drenched the air.

Stefan abandoned his post and grabbed the bottle of chardonnay on the counter, popped the cork and filled two glasses. He had dried himself off, shucked his jeans for his favorite gray sweats and a loose white V-neck shirt.

He held a glass out to me which I accepted, my slender fingers overlapping with his thicker ones. We tapped our glasses together without making a toast because one wasn't always necessary. You live with someone, learn their habits, you could pretty much guess at what they would say or what they were thinking. Stefan's lips pulled back from his teeth revealing his longer than usual canines, his fangs as I often referred to them. The chardonnay was sweet and would go well with what I suspected was a chicken and vegetable dish Stefan was whipping up.

He motioned with his head toward the table, "Go have a seat."

"I rather sit here and watch you make your culinary magic," I plopped my booty on a stool.

Stefan chuckled lowly and returned to the stove. "You feel better after your shower?"

"You could tell I was stressed about something?"

He glanced over his shoulder, "Of course. What happened at work today?"

Circling my off-centered lips with a finger, I thought back to this afternoon. The meeting with Eli that caused some flutters of anxiety, but not as badly as the one with my book editor. I met with her to turn in the chapters she had been hassling me about for the last two months. The bitch pretty much wanted to throw out everything I had slaved to accomplish to replace with the usual clichéd, trope-y bullshit that made subpar writers famous. My male main character wasn't obsessive enough, wasn't stalkerish enough, wasn't assholish enough for her newly acquired taste of the modern day abuser. And I could forget about a heroine who was not only intelligent, but used her backbone quite frequently.

"She's just unrelatable, Bonnie," Rosamund Gafferty said, actually spoke those words to me.

I nearly told Rosamund that parts of my heroine were inspired by her. Wondered if she would retract that statement if she knew. Then I thought better of it. People couldn't see themselves how others saw them especially if those were positive views.

Shaking my head at the decline in literary standards, I drank more wine. "My creative meeting didn't go so well. You know how it is. I'm a new writer sure, but I'm a published journalist, which is different. She thinks I'm writing too much like a reporter, but that is kind of my point."

"I'm guessing there's no way to ask for a new editor," Stefan turned from the stove.

"No there's not. I just don't want this book to slowly deteriorate into another knockoff BDSM version of Twilight fanfic. What's more important? Selling lots of copies of a shit book, or maintaining my integrity as a thinker and a creator? I'm going with option two."

"Poorly written smut sells. I thought you knew that."

I flipped him off. "How was your day?"

"Before the incident at the metro it was a basic, routine day," Stefan resumed cooking, handing several things at once: stirring, tasting, seasoning. His hips shimmied a bit and I couldn't help but stare at his cute little white boy buttocks.

My phone started ringing and I hopped up to answer it. It was Jared. My heart pounded a bit. Our communication dwindled after we agreed to take things slow on a friend-only basis. I had seconded-guess if that had been the smartest move to make. I hadn't intended to friend zone myself.

Nevertheless, I pressed the green button opening the line, my tone intentionally high-pitched, "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm doing well," Jared replied. "What about you? It's been a while since we've touched base."

The timbre of his voice still inspired butterflies, but the effects had been dialed down severely.

"I've been okay."

"Just okay?" I could hear the smile he was wearing.

"Yeah, just okay."

"Hmm. Are you busy?"

"No, not really. Just sitting around trying to unwind after a hectic day. What's up?"

"I was curious if you have any plans this weekend? My friend Bruce is having a birthday cookout and I can invite a plus one. Interested?"

This weekend was Memorial Day weekend and I had plans to hit the beach. I lumbered to the stool I had been sitting on and continued to watch Stefan cook. "I'm headed out of town. I'm sorry."

Pause. "Oh. Maybe we can meet up for lunch or dinner."

"Maybe. I don't have anything on my calendar for the next two weeks. Just hit me up, call, text."

"Okay," the pep was back in Jared's voice. "I need to get back to work. I just wanted to see how you were. I'll call you later."

"All right."

"Good night, Bonnie."

"Good night, Jared," I hung up.

Stefan said, "Can you grab the plates? The food's ready."

I did and waited to see how long it would take him to question me about Jared. Stefan never did.

* * *

|| Stefan||

Bonnie licked bruschetta flavored olive oil from her finger and smiled. I returned the gesture stifling a burp with a closed fist. We had gone through an entire bottle of wine and I wasn't feeling the slightest buzzed. I knew it'd sneak up on me at some point, but for now my stomach was full, the painful beat of my injuries was a low throb, and I could use a blow job as a sedative. Two of out three was pretty good for an average Wednesday night.

I didn't want to say things had been weird between Bonnie and me since I deliberately flashed my junk. However the playful, light-hearted moments we used to share had become scarce. That could be blamed with me going out of town, but the strain was still felt. You could be with a person in the same room or far away and, depending on the circumstances, feel extraordinarily close or like there was a mountain separating you. Nevertheless, I had replayed that night again and again in my mind with a collection of alternate endings. Yet the most vivid had been the one which actually happened.

Bonnie got her fill, said the word, "Nice," coughed and ran smack dab into the wall as she went to go let Damon into the apartment.

Either I could curse or praise my brother for his timing.

That night the only thing I ended up fucking was my fist.

"Have you finalized plans for Memorial Day with Eddie?" Bonnie's question detoured where my thoughts had been going.

"I did. He's going to have a full house. Fair warning."

My friend Eddie Thawne owned a timeshare in Ocean City, Maryland that he used for the national holiday. I had stayed there a few times since he bought it, but this would be the first year Bon and I would be guests at Eddie's together.

"How many?"

"Eight altogether, you and I included."

"How many bedrooms does the timeshare have?"

"Three—no four. The fourth is a converted mud room. There's only a twin sized bed in that. There's also the fold out couch in the game room."

Bonnie nodded and polished off the rest of her wine. "Will you and I be sharing a room, or will I be bunking with some chick I don't know?"

"We can share. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. I rather stay with someone I know and feel comfortable with."

I leaned my elbows on the table, "What if I meet someone and want to bring them back to the room…?"

"You plan on hooking up with some girl while we're there?" Bonnie stared at me archly.

"No, that's not the plan, but you know nature. It likes to take its course," I stretched my arms above my head, a fabricated smug grin in place.

Bonnie twisted her lips. "What about Amber?"

"What about her?"

"Don't be daft, Stefan. You know what I'm getting at."

I did know. Amber was cool, and I enjoyed hanging out with her among other things, but I never made her any promises. Though she loved dropping hints about exclusivity. To be honest, I was over the routine of our 'thing'. I was far from a fan of drama and angst, and believed those things weren't always necessary to keep shit interesting and from becoming stale. But there was no drama with Amber besides the minor hiccups of miscommunication. She would be happy with a life packaged fresh off an assembly line. Me, I was still getting a feel for what I wanted. I wanted my blood to boil when I looked at someone, not out of anger but out of a heightened need for proximity. I wanted the impassioned debates, the calming moments of silence, the secret smiles, the inside jokes, the painful stab of separation as we went our separate ways to conquer our occupational worlds.

Bonnie was saying something and that's when it slammed into me. _Hard_. I already had that.

My spine went straight. "What did you say?"

"Amber? Ring a bell? Are you still seeing her?" Bonnie waved her fork around.

As of this moment, no. I'd tell her that eventually. I rose from the table collecting my empty plate and Bonnie's. "I think it's time for me to move on."

"Really? I thought things were good with you guys."

I slighted Bonnie with a 'yeah right' look over my shoulder in which she tossed back an innocent 'I'm trying to be nice' one. I chuckled, rinsed the dishes and stuffed them in the dishwater.

"Things have kind of hit a plateau," I informed. "You know when something isn't going anywhere. Best to cut it off rather than waste more time dragging it out to its inevitable end."

Bonnie hopped up on the counter. "You're preaching to the choir. Can't say I'll miss her."

"You never liked her."

"I don't know her is more accurate," Bonnie scooted closer and ran her fingers through my hair. My jaw flexed because that felt too good.

A lot of the things she did to me felt good, and now seeing it for what it was I knew I was headed straight for trouble.

"I want you happy," she said. "That's all I care about. I'm Team Stefan."

I looked at her, green eyes rounded, the pinnacle of honesty. "And you know I'm Team Bonnie."

"You really don't have a choice," she snorted. "Watch a movie with me?"

"Yeah, let me just get this kitchen in order."

"I'll make popcorn."

"Try not to burn it. You always do."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and hopped down, slapping her feet on the tile as she headed to the pantry.

We settled on the couch. The apartment was dark and I was feeling…strange. That typically happened once you became self-aware about something. For once I kind of wished Damon was here so I wouldn't do something stupid. I could write this whole thing off as arousal but it was more than that. Just two more hours, Stefan and then you can go to bed.

"You okay, Stef?"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "I'm fine."

Bonnie had her fleece blanket because the apartment was an icebox. Me, I had a bag of Twizzlers and the popcorn. She curled up on her side, remote control in her hand, flipping through every single HBO channel on the hunt for something entertaining to watch. I handed Bonnie the Twizzlers and wedged the bowl of popcorn between us.

Bonnie found a movie and hiked the blanket across her lap. She ripped open the Twizzlers removing two pieces of licorice, sliding a twisty stem between her lips. I cleared my throat and looked at the flatscreen with no clue as to what the hell we were watching. I couldn't stop stealing peeks at my roommate, and had no idea why I was torturing myself knowing I should go laze in bed and fool around on social media. It would be better than listening to the little voice in my head telling me to fool around with Bonnie.

This want I was beginning to feel for her was getting worse. But I wouldn't take advantage and push for more. We were friends above anything else, and it was our friendship I was going to protect.

Bonnie shifted, drawing my attention. Her chest was now pointed in my direction while her head was turned toward the TV. She couldn't have been comfortable sitting like that, but she didn't appear to have any problems. I, on the other hand, did. Her nipples were hard and tented her shirt. I stifled a groan and the fact my half-chub was at a total salute by this point.

"You want a Twizzler?"

"No thanks."

Bonnie shrugged and moved around, changing position once more. Her small foot now pressed against my thigh that she nudged every few seconds. I clamped a hand on her ankle to get her to stop.

I tried to get into the movie. Something with Chris Evans living on a train that couldn't stop because the world was accidentally frozen in an attempt to squelch global warming. Could you say major fail? I got lost in the action and anytime I began to forget that I wanted to do more than share an apartment with Bonnie, she'd move and remind me of my earlier predicament.

The movie was starting to drag for me, and I just wasn't interested anymore. "Bon, I think I'm gonna head off to bed."

"Okay."

Normally she would list a bunch of reasons why I should stay and finish watching a flick, but tonight she was uncharacteristically letting me off the hook. I lifted an eyebrow, rose pressing one knee into the couch for support as I loomed over Bonnie to kiss her goodnight. My target was her temple but she rolled and…

My mouth brushed the bridge of her nose. She giggled. I chuckled lowly and then we were staring at one another. No different than how we typically looked at each other, but there was an element there that hadn't been before. Nothing insidious like she was afraid of me, but…an invitation of sorts, unspoken yet opened ended. No set time limit, but you could sense the urgency not to waste a precious second.

It may have just been an hour ago I realized I may want something more with Bonnie, but did it mean _now_ was the time to act on anything physical? Neither of us was tied down in hardcore relationships, nor had demanding jobs that required we slave eighty hours a week. Feasibly nothing stood in the way. I didn't count Jared as an obstacle. Not a terribly big one. Things were too new with them to be anything serious. So if she didn't want what was probably coming, she'd push me away.

"Bonnie," my voice was low, deep.

Her hand framed my face. "If you're going to kiss me, Ste…"

I didn't let her finish. _Couldn't_ let her finish.

Fuck. Me.

Ideas always seem good at the time until you actually begin to work them out. You think to yourself that nothing earth shattering will happen, and that you'll be able to walk away scot-free. That your life won't be flipped off its fucking axis, and everything would be as it's always been.

Lies. All of it. Lies.

Her lips were…

Heady. Sanguine. Perfect. My god.

Our hands were everywhere. Clutching, pulling, sliding while our mouths worked: taunting, biting, undressing. Bonnie's mouth was hot and sweet, her tongue pliant and extroverted. I drank her sighs, sipped on her moans, swallowed her inhibitions. The noise of our constantly smacking lips was louder than whatever was happening on the TV screen. Her legs wrapped around me, trapping me, and I was happy to be a prisoner. I knew what Bonnie's soft body felt like, touched it a million times, but being this tight, this close made every last drop of blood in me head south.

Taking shallow breaths through my nose meant I wouldn't have to part for air, but Bonnie needed a break so my lips aimed for her jaw, her neck.

"What are we doing?" Bonnie panted, arched her back crushing her tits to my chest. Her nipples were so hard they could cut me.

"You want me to stop?" of their own, my hips started a slow grind. Shit.

"We should stop," Bonnie whispered.

"This is wrong," yet I didn't stop kissing her.

"Mm-hmm," she mewled, scraping her nails through the blunt hairs on the nape of my neck. That was one of my spots.

Bonnie forced my lips away from her throat and smothered them with her own once more. I guess I got my answer. Stopping was the last thing she wanted. And who was I to let a lady down?

I heard keys rattling, voices, footsteps and prayed it wasn't Damon. Keep going, keep going became my mantra hoping whoever was walking in the hallway would bypass the door.

They did.

Whew.

But another decision would need to be made and made quickly because I was forgetting how to think.

Warm, tiny hands slipped under my shirt and I was catching a drift on my back as the material inched up my spine. If I pulled away to yank it off that wouldn't be the only item of clothing that would be removed. I would be more than happy to give Bonnie _anything_ that she wanted. She just had to let me know.

As if reading my mind, she broke the kiss, her mouth wet and swollen. "I don't want to use my B.O.B tonight."

"I don't want you to, either."

I was harder than titanium and the smell of Bonnie's arousal was becoming noticeable. I shivered just imagining how wet she was, and the fact she was that wet just from kissing. I swallowed a lump and fell back on my ass.

Bonnie sat up and we stared at one another searchingly. I glanced at the hallway that led to our bedrooms. It was completely dark. Anything could happen. I brought my gaze back to her. Heat pooled gotdamn everywhere as Bonnie looked at my hard on, which was pretty fucking obvious through my sweats. I touched myself, groaned at the pressure.

She stood from the couch. The blanket hit the floor and she left it there. Bonnie shut off the TV, grabbed my wrist and we blindly made our way to her room. I hesitated at the door, and she let me go, fumbled for the light switch. I blinked at the brightness stinging my eyes. Common sense was beginning to nudge my lust aside.

"We don't have to do anything, Bonnie."

"I know we don't have to, Stefan. That's the beauty of everything. I want to show you how beautiful things can be. Come in and close the door."

The flesh, my flesh was weak. It was a wrap.

 **A/N: Thoughts? Thank you for reading! Reviews make my day, literally.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hiya! Thank you for the lovely reviews last chapter invoked. This chapter is relatively short because I haven't been, mentally, in a place to write for a while. I'd like to speak candidly about whether I will be finishing any of my ongoing fics, but I'll wait. Happy reading!**

* * *

||Bonnie||

I had a problem and I hoped it was about to be solved.

He came up behind me, warm fingers slid beneath my shirt touching me in that sliver of space between waist and hips. I straightened from my half-bent position, neck tilting instinctively waiting for the gentle press of his mouth on my throat.

"What are you thinking right now?" Stefan bit my earlobe.

My core throbbed and clenched, and my poor hyperactive clit jumped like a gotdamn dick. "Something illicit that you could possibly help me out with."

Air hissed through Stefan's teeth and he groaned, "I could but," his hands distracted me, seemed to have distracted us both as they dipped lower, resting firmly on my hips. His thumbs teased the cleft of my ass, "I don't have much restraint left, Bonnie."

Mine was all gone. I brazenly flattened my backside against his rigid groin. My eyes crossed; his fingers dug deeper into my flesh and it was all I could do not to pounce.

I had seen Stefan's bulge on numerous occasions through the fabric of his basketball shorts, sweat pants, and when he wore his jeans extra tight. It was one thing seeing it and fantasizing about its weight in your hands, its girth in your mouth, its hardness in your pussy. Feeling it notched between your ass was a literal cock tease of epic proportions. And made me want it even more.

Now I was restraining _myself_ not to force his hands where I wanted to be touched. I wanted him to do it on his own accord, because a willing participant is always better.

To my total surprise, Stefan bent me completely over the bed, his thighs flushed against my hamstrings. I arched my back and now my pussy was on his bulge.

"Shit," we cursed within beats of one another.

Teeth gouged my bottom lip at the exquisite, toe-curling sensation that quadrupled once Stefan trailed a hand down the center of my spine.

"Ummm," was the sound born out of my diaphragm the second my roomie firmly squeezed the fattest part of my physique.

I wasn't given long to enjoy it before I was flipped to my back, cold sheets welcoming me.

He's between my legs, was the center most thought I had. My thighs brushed along his ribs, mindful of the ones that were bruised earlier tonight. Heat arrowed from nipples to clit as Stefan fell forward and loomed above me. His balled fists dug into the mattress on both sides of my head while his deep-set gaze bored into me with the kind of intensity that could melt metal.

There weren't many times I felt intimidated by Stefan. When he curled in on himself to brood like an agitated wolf, I knew to give him a wide berth though he wasn't known to lash out verbally. He could slice your aorta with a single look and that would be enough for some. When that muscle in his sculpted jaw began thumping he was pissed. That thumping muscle took on a new meaning for me at this precise moment. He was horny. Very much so.

"Where do you want me to kiss you next?" His words were his tongue dragging across my hot spots, and my stomach fluttered at the question.

"The place where you find me the most beautiful."

A smile teased his lips which were plumper and pinker.

"Here?" Stefan inched my shirt up exposing my belly. "Or here?" He hooked his pointer in the elastic band of my leggings and pulled, but made no real effort to peel them down. "No, right here," he voiced in a husky timbre. His thumbs brushed across my lashes prompting me to shut my eyes and then his lips were on them. "There. That's where I find you the most beautiful."

"My eyes?"

"Mm-hmm and I don't mean the color or shape of them—beautiful of course—but it's the first place I look when I want to see your soul."

My brows arched. "Damn that was a good answer."

He chuckled, "Now are you going to show me the same kindness? Or were you just fishing for a compliment?"

Pushing Stefan off of me, I straddled him purposely sitting on his hard-on. Stefan thrust upward only minutely but it was enough to send flares of heat everywhere: hands, shoulders, knees, and toes. It would be impossible for him not to feel how wet I was, because I was soaked through my flimsy underwear and leggings which were already thin to start with. My roommate moistened his lips the same way he did right before he was about to attack a meal after having gone hours without eating. My walls, they contracted, blood warmed my thighs.

"Where do I find you the most beautiful…?" I wrestled his shirt off and devoured his knotted stomach that flexed with each breath. My fingers marched from the happy trail on up as I leaned down, reaching my target; the small patch of skin above his nipple. I kissed where his heart was. "Here." And then tongued his nipple.

Stefan cursed and jerked my face up by the chin, crushing his mouth on mine.

We lost our composure. One second things were calm like meandering down a stream, and the next we were surfing eighty foot swells. I was pinned beneath Stefan, my wrists his prisoners as he slanted his mouth over mine, our tongues slicking over each other like a forming cyclone. What the hell is up with all these damn nature metaphors, Bonnie? Focus on how you feel, I thought. Breathless. Excited. Crazed. Focus on what you want to happen next. I want Stefan to rip my panties off.

He must have heard my thoughts. Our lips parted on a resounding smack. Stefan nipped along my jaw, throat, used the tip of his nose to skim down the center of my body. I watched the play of corded muscles in his shoulders and arms flex which each movement. Sexy as fuck. Anatomical synchronicity at its finest. He released my wrists and his entire concentration was zeroed in on removing that barrier one leg at a time.

The air crackled with anticipation so _thick_ every breath was a small miracle. I held it nonetheless praying my dreams would be granted.

Stefan dropped my leggings on the floor. The last test of our will began the moment his head canted to the side as he stared at me sprawled on the mattress.

Everything jumped at his touch. Became overly sensitive. The give of my panties as they were coaxed off my hips…I rose my bottom and then the most controversial part of my body was exposed. What made it even more thrilling was the fact Stefan never looked, he kept his gaze on mine the entire time.

My thighs cradled his weight as he lied on top of me, pecked my lips and tongued my neck. The hair on Stefan's lower abs tickled the top of my cleft and when he thrust I squeezed him tighter—arms and legs—while my twat pulsed.

"Ah…fuck," I turned my head away from him.

His fingers were inside of me.

"You're so fuckin' wet. I didn't know anyone could get this wet," Stefan groaned and seized my mouth again.

I could hear how wet I was. Every last drop was for him, and right now I wouldn't mind in the slightest if he tasted it or replaced his magical fingers with his prick.

His thumb massaged my clit while his index and middle fingers stroked my slippery walls. Stefan's breathing became labored and a light film of sweat broke across our skin. He pulled away slightly and I knew he was staring at the expressions that crossed my face, gauging what he was doing to me, how it felt for me.

My nails used his back to say the words I couldn't say. Stefan added another finger. Eyes meet the back of my head.

"Ride my fingers, Bonnie."

Oh, god I had already been doing that but hearing that command spurned my hips to piston faster.

" _Fuck_ me, Stefan. I want _you_ inside of me."

He denied me. His fingers kept at it. My hips bucked back and forth as my feet lifted from resting on Stefan's calves and were now suspended in mid-air. Sounds of indescribable pitch streamed in an embarrassing frequency from my mouth as those devilish digits worked my middle.

"I need you to understand something, Bonnie," the roughness of his tone meant to me he was exercising so much self-control that he was indeed close to snapping. "When it happens…it won't be me fucking you, but us fucking one another. You'll be mine and I'll be yours. Feel me?"

Ah hell yeah. I nodded. That was the best I could do. I felt it coming. Rounding that final bend to a multiple orgasm.

"Your cunt is squeezing _the_ _hell_ out of my fingers."

"I'm gonna come," I panted.

Stefan showed no mercy. He drilled me, rubbed my clit with just the barest touch. My toes curled, back arched, and that cataclysmic high which made you want to scream, cry, and die all at once pop inside me like a cork.

"Ohmigoddddddddddd."

Thighs shaking, chest rising and falling too rapidly, I jerked as one fat orgasm after another slammed into me.

Electricity, fire it all shot through my veins, my pearl being the epicenter. I was shocked lightning wasn't dancing on my fingertips or shooting from my nail beds. There wasn't a part of me that didn't feel charged. My limbs went limp and flopped on the bed. I _so_ needed that.

Dazedly I felt the tickle of Stefan's hair on my chin. He was kissing my breasts through my shirt. A sigh left me when his fingers did and my roommate lied down beside me.

We stared at one another for a while, unspeaking. My half-lidded gaze widened when Stefan drew his wet fingers into his mouth.

"Hmm," he hummed in approval.

Damn.

Should I go and make him a sandwich for a job well done? Whistle? Cheer? I was too orgasm-inebriated to move. Somewhere my consciousness was wrapped in silk and snuggled in a cloud. If Stefan could make me feel like this with just a finger fuck, what would an actual one be like? My imagination had few limits, but the scope of such an endeavor had me a bit shook I can't lie.

"Hi," Stefan gifted me with a boyish grin.

A bout of shyness had me covering my mouth. "Hi."

"I take it back…the most beautiful thing about you is watching you come."

I popped Stefan on the shoulder. It was glancing blow at best because I had no energy. "Shut up."

"You okay?" he asked.

"I am…or will be," I chortled. "What about you?" I peeped the tint in his sweat pants that had not gone anywhere. "That can't possibly be comfortable."

My lothario of a bestie shrugged and winced, "It's not, but it's manageable."

"I could take care of it for you."

Stefan swallowed and contemplated the idea but whatever conclusion he arrived to, he shook it away. "Not tonight."

"I don't want to feel selfish."

"And I don't want to walk through that door without properly closing the other one…if you get my drift."

I did. That was euphemism speak for Amber, the chick he was casually dating. Ugh. That was draining my high. Crap, now I was thinking about Jared. But grabbing coffee, one date, and a handful of conversations constituted nothing in the grand scheme of things. I had made no promises of celibacy to anyone, and I would be stupid not to suspect Jared didn't have someone he called when he needed a tension reliever. Not to say he did, but it would be ill-advised to disregard the possibility.

I rolled to face Stefan and gently caressed his jaw and chin. "How did we even get to this point?"

Tonight had begun innocently enough and unfurled to our present situation, but what changed for Stefan? I knew where I stood on the matter, and it would crush me if what just occurred was one of those weird happenstances that meant nothing.

Stefan laughed tiredly, "Maybe…maybe it's been building since the moment we met. Maybe tonight was just inevitable."

That was a relief to hear.

"Do you regret it?" I pressed.

Pregnant pause and my heart was in my throat. Regret could be an instantaneous thing or something built over time. I was scrambling to find reasons A-Z in why this could work and why we shouldn't chalk it up to a mistake and never repeat it again. I knew Stefan had his doubts and I had mine, but how would we know whether we were making a mistake if we didn't at least try?

"No," he whispered. "I don't regret it. Do you?"

"Hell no," I didn't even hesitate. Stefan laughed again. "You know I enjoyed myself and I can't be upset for something…" I've been wanting for a while. I stopped, edited that ending and said instead, "You're very good at what you do."

Stefan's ears turned red. He rolled off the bed, shut and locked my bedroom door—damn forgot it had been wide open this entire time— and turned out the light. By the time Stefan rejoined me I was beneath the covers.

His lean body spooned me from behind. We weren't novices when it came to sharing a bed, but it was the first time being this deliberately close to one another. I wiggled my bottom into Stefan's softening erection. Mind you, I was still very much commando. His willpower was something to marvel at, and though he said he was cool I wondered at the honesty of that statement.

Dropping a kiss on my shoulder, his arm cushioned across my waist, our heads shared a pillow. "I hope nothing changes with us, Bonnie."

"I would say it's a bit too late for that."

"You know how I am as a friend…you don't know what I'm like as a lover. I don't fuck around."

That sounded like a threat but you don't shiver and break out into goosebumps at a threat. If you were perfectly, chemically balanced that is. Regardless, I was in this for the long haul. I just needed Stefan to catch up.

 **A/N: I know, not the sex you were expecting but I'm not ready for them to cross that bridge just yet. Nonetheless, thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you thought of this. XOXO.**


	12. Chapter 12

**|| Stefan||**

It wasn't my pillow I was wrapped around like a pretzel. Bonnie. Her scent flooded my nose and I was wide awake. Alert. _Too_ alert. Her head used my arm as a pillow, my dick was her cushion. I needed to piss like a horse and tame my morning breath before facing her. Dropping a kiss on the curve of her shoulder, I slid my arm out from beneath her and felt the blood rush to my fingertips. Shit, that's painful. Bonnie murmured but didn't wake up.

Getting out of bed, I was in my bathroom in two seconds, stripped. My cock sprang free, damn near violently engorged; the protruding veins along the shaft looked seconds from rupturing. Blue balls? Fuck that, blue penis was nothing to play with. I had never been so fucking hard before. Not even on the night I gave up my virginity. All from sleeping next to Bonnie?

I moved like I had rickets to the shower. I stood under the pelting water, one hand braced on the cold tile. Steam rose and I soaped my hand, fisted myself. Replays from last night hit me with broadband speed. Thoughts of Bonnie's twat, how it would feel cushioned on all sides of me, sucking me in and pushing me out determined the speed of my strokes. I envisioned the way her ass and tits would jiggle and bounce as I hit it from the back. Thought of her tweaking her nipples, her clit and her succulent juices running down her legs wetting the sheets. It was too much mental stimulation that spurts of cum shot out of my cock and splashed against the tile.

Breathing stucco, I braced an arm along the shower wall and to my horror…I was still painfully hard. Today was going to be a long day.

Bonnie was my absolute best friend and I wasn't going to fuck her, not casually anyways. I could separate my feelings from my dick when I needed to, but when I genuinely cared for someone getting to know them was sexier than the actual sex. Maybe I'm dated and old fashioned, but I wanted to know more about a person than make her come—in the beginning.

I knew Bonnie _too_ well and therein laid the problem. I knew her breasts, nipples in particular, were the most sensitive part of her. She confided that to me during one of those lazy afternoons where you languished between boredom and horniness. I knew she didn't have a problem being kissed right after getting head, and cuddling afterwards was a non-negotiable must.

She knew things about me too. I wasn't turned off by sloppy blow jobs, the sloppier the better, teeth were okay but use 'em sparingly. I liked my nipples and balls to be played with simultaneously. And I wasn't adverse to pillow talk. Bonnie and I could be one in the same, which was peculiar because if I believed in astrology, our signs meant we clashed on every level that mattered. She's an Aquarius and I'm supposedly a Scorpio, and never the twain should we be compatible, but we were.

It was scary how much in tune we could be. I could look in Bonnie's eyes and know what she needed and she could peer in mine and do the same. It was the product of six years of friendship, and if I stuck my dick anywhere inside of her, could we be throwing that away for lust?

Stepping out of the shower, I quickly toweled off and went to work brushing my teeth. I thought about calling out to work but scratched the idea. I had a meeting with the head honcho and I couldn't miss it.

In my haste for freedom, I had forgotten to close my bedroom door. I couldn't exactly see inside of Bonnie's room, but the allure, the pull to climb back into bed and wake her up how I would a girlfriend was incredibly strong.

Staunching that need, I closed the door, dressed. By the time I emerged, coffee was brewing and the voices of Matt Lauer and Samantha Guthrie combated to make their points before a commercial break.

Barefoot and frumpy, my roommate stood near the stove cracking eggs into a bowl. I sidled next to her in which Bonnie did nothing more than peek at me.

I frowned.

"Good morning."

"Morning," she muttered tight-lipped.

Her mood wasn't hard to gauge. She was pissed. Or cranky. That wasn't unusual for Bonnie. Needless to say I expected a much different outcome after last night.

"Did I do something wrong?" I pushed a few unruly strands of hair behind her ear.

Bonnie finally looked up at me with a neutral expression. "I don't know. Did you?"

Ohmygod I hated when she did this. Throw my questions back at me in a passive aggressive manner. "Mad at me for abandoning you in bed?"

"Why do you think I'm mad, Stefan?" she seemed genuinely confused.

"Body language for one," I answered. "I had to shower. Am I not allowed to do that?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is it?!"

"I guess," she sighed. "I guess I'm waiting for you to say last night was a mistake and that it'll never happen again."

"I thought we covered that last night," I dipped my head, peering at her intently. "Is that what you want me to say? You want me to regret it?"

Bonnie shrugged her tiny shoulders. "I know emotions change. For some the change is annually, weekly, or hourly. What you say at night might not be how you'll feel in the morning."

I folded my arms and leaned my weight into the countertop. "Don't you know me, Bon? I'm not finicky."

"I know that," Bonnie snapped her attention back to whipping up eggs.

"Have your feelings changed?"

"No."

Slinging an arm around her, I kissed her temple, lifted her chin and kissed her mouth. "Better?"

She finally cracked a smile. "Getting there. I was in my feelings."

I snorted, pinched her booty, and retrieved the juice from the fridge.

We sat down together to gorge on her eggs, toast, and bacon. While she was busy scrolling through her phone, I helped myself to seconds. And I wasn't talking about the food, but merely devouring every inch, crook, cranny and nuance of one of the world's most beautiful faces.

"I _can_ see you staring at me like a perv," green eyes flicked to mine. "It's too early to make this weird."

"Apologies." I wasn't sorry.

"Yeah, right. Go to work or you'll be late."

Killing the last of my coffee I did as Bonnie suggested, but not without stealing another kiss. I guess some part of me should be concerned by how easy it was to show affection, or merely up the affection that had made us who we were.

"Dinner?" I asked walking backwards to dip inside my room and collect my work shit.

"I'll order!" Bonnie yelled from the kitchen.

I rejoined her once I had everything. "All right. I'll see you," I kissed her hand.

Her eyes followed me to the door where I paused. The look on her face imprinted in my brain. Bonnie had never stared at me like that and it shattered something inside of me but I couldn't name what it was.

Leaving home had never been so hard to do.

* * *

"I'm telling you the congressman will never go for that. He'll never go for total disclosure. Who wants to go on public record that one of their closest constituents has been investigated _twice_ on corruption charges? If we pursue this I see us having to testify if the DOJ is sicced on us," prophesied the deputy editor Phaedra Lambert who for the last ten minutes tried to molest my ankle and calf with her foot.

Pulling my leg out of reach, I kept my focus strictly on the man seated right across from me at a table in a four-star restaurant in northeast.

So far my day had been shit, which meant it was a pretty average day. Interns who couldn't get along, graphics not working properly, everyone thinking they knew what was best yet offered no fresh perspective on how to keep print from becoming obsolete. Throw in having lunch with the last two people you wanted to break bread with, my day was fucking awesome.

"What if we frame it as nothing more than rumor and speculation? At least that way the story would be out and could gain traction," I argued it from another angle.

The Vice President, Larry Pepper leaned back in his chair, sighing in exasperation. "Then what would separate us, a respectable publication from a trashy tabloid only interested in covering what starlet 'accidentally' exposed her vagina on the red carpet?" Phaedra made a noise of disapproval. Larry ignored her. "No. We don't report on rumors and speculation but _facts_. I need a source willing to go on record, anonymously. I don't want any backlash on this either, but we wouldn't be journalists if we wanted simplicity. Get me something printable." Larry tapped his alma mater ring on the table twice, his signal the meeting was over.

"I'll bring it up in tomorrow's morning meeting. You're welcome to sit in," Phaedra offered as a nod of Larry's authority.

He was too busy checking the time on a watch that cost more than what I made in a year _before_ taxes. Larry looked how you'd imagine a man with a lot of money who danced in circles that consisted of the president's chief of staff, congressmen, governors, and CEO's. Like an uncooked piece of chicken with gray hair, as Bonnie would say. For years he'd been trying to break into the bubble of the one percent of the one percent with no such luck. It was red and not blue blood that flowed through his veins. He could claim to be seven times removed from late President Truman, but we all knew better than to believe that lie.

"I wish I could but I have several meetings lined up," Larry finally spared Phaedra a glance, first making a pit stop at her tits before looking her directly in the eye. "I trust your judgement and know you'll carry out my specifications on this. I'll give you a call later this week to see how things are progressing."

Underneath the table I felt Phaedra's foot searching for my leg. I used that as an excuse to get to my feet as well. Larry shifted his focus to me, stretched out a hand. We shook. He showed the same courtesy to Phaedra then moseyed off.

Once he was gone, Phaedra arched her back, stretched her arms which pushed her generous tits out farther. If she was hoping I'd fall for that too obvious bait…well sometimes I loved to disappoint people.

"Join me for a cup of coffee," Phaedra practically purred.

"Can't," I scrolled through my phone and the numerous emails I had gotten since meeting Larry for lunch. "We need to get back to the office. There's too much that still needs to be done to get the magazine out by the deadline."

"Certainly you can carve out another fifteen minutes. With the holiday coming up…cheating a little won't hurt anything. Stay, Stefan."

I won't lie. Phaedra was hot. Brown-skinned, large onyx eyes, a beguiling beauty mark next to a pair of full lips. Far more intelligent than most of the people she took orders from. Phaedra was my boss. Dealing with her required an exercise in diplomacy. I had to rebuff her while seemingly leaving the door open for the possibility of a fuck in the future. Phaedra didn't have a reputation about being more accessible than a turnstile at the metro. But plenty knew she had a voracious appetite that made her tenacity to get her way in the journalism world something to marvel at.

Phaedra blinked owlishly beckoning me to sit my ass back in the chair since I was on her time and her dime—well she was using the company card. Regardless of that, we had jobs to do. Couldn't deviate no matter how tempting it would be to squeeze in a few minutes of pointless flirting that wouldn't change our status. Phaedra was aware I was seeing Amber and voiced her disapproval about it several times. Office romances rarely bloomed into anything long term.

That wouldn't be an issue for much longer.

Most guys in my shoes would probably relish having two women at his expense. One warming his bed, the other waiting her turn. I've never been about playing bullshit games, having my cake and eating it too. I wasn't about that choosing one and losing the other lifestyle; therefore, never making a choice. The choice had been made the first time I tasted Bonnie's mouth.

The thought of her made my fingers itch to pick up the phone, hear her voice see where it might take me. Six o'clock couldn't get here fast enough.

Just as soon as I opened my mouth I heard my name being called. Turning in the direction of the summons, I inhaled.

"Damon. What are you doing here?" How did I keep forgetting his ass lived in DC now?

Big brother weaved his way through the tables and stopped once he reached me and Phaedra. "Having lunch with a prospective client," he explained and acknowledged my boss who made it no secret she was appreciating what she was seeing. "Who's this?"

Phaedra rose to her feet, hand extended. I made the introductions, "Damon, I'd like you to meet my boss, Deputy Editor of the _Politico Inquisitor_ , Phaedra Lambert. Phaedra this is my older brother, Damon."

"Nice to meet you," they spoke in chorus and shared a laugh.

"No, really it's nice to meet you, Phaedra," Damon turned on the charm, laid a kiss on her knuckles. "I see Stefan is a very lucky employee to have such a beautiful employer."

Phaedra melted at the praise. "Thank you. Would you care to join us? I was trying to convince your brother to have a cup of coffee with me."

Damon and I came up with this system, a secret language of sorts that entailed head knobs, pressed lips, and frowns. I was giving him a look that basically read: bail me out and I'll give you fifty bucks.

I wasn't sure if Damon would actually do me a solid and help me because he got off on watching me make an asshole out of myself. He turned to Phaedra who stared at him expectantly.

"Actually I need to steal him away for a few minutes…family business we need to talk about. Is that cool?"

Phaedra pouted, "I guess I can't really forbid Stefan from discussing family issues," she narrowed her eyes at me a bit. "But we still need to talk."

"Yeah, let's touch base at the close of business."

"Fine," Phaedra dismissed me, retook her seat, and flagged down our server.

Damon led me to another table that was thankfully out of Phaedra's line of sight. We sat down. My brother immediately ordered bourbon. I didn't order anything. I was full and my thirst quite quenched.

"Actually that wasn't just bullshit I said to get you away from your boss' pussy," Damon grumbled, played with the rolled silverware on the table. "I got a call from mom. Seems you broke Enzo's nose."

I hitched an eyebrow and shrugged. "He deserved it. On account of what he did to the both of us he's lucky that's all I did. You think I overreacted?"

Damon pinned me with a look, "You're talking to someone who flattened tires for being stood up. A broken nose is the least he could have walked away with. He gets our mother," he sneered, "and access to our family's wealth, and yet she wants to rage in my ear for twenty minutes thinking I put you up to the whole thing. So I politely reminded our dear mother of Enzo's checkered past. She didn't like that," Damon smiled broadly.

Enzo and Damon met their freshman year in high school, and quickly became close. Close enough that Damon confided certain secrets and truths despite my numerous warnings to Damon not to trust Enzo. He thought I was being overprotective and paranoid, but my gut was seldom wrong when it came to pointing out rats. Enzo had come off to me as being too needy for friendship. And though he said over and over how loyal he was—proved it a few times—I never escaped feeling that his "loyalty" was more so driven by envy. Essentially he wanted everything my brother had.

As with most of my brother's friendships, things turned tumultuous and Enzo accidentally on purpose told Giuseppe about Damon's secret relationship with a councilmen's son.

I thought my dad was going to make me into an only child that night.

Enzo tried to use me to make amends, but naturally I told him to fuck off. Eventually the dick would connive his way into Damon's good graces. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice—you're dead.

"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Your argument with mom about her slutty fiancé?" my jaw ticked.

"No, got thrown off track," he cleared his throat. "A friend of mine is putting together this fashion show and she's down a model. Interested?"

I stared at Damon drolly. "Hell. No."

"Oh, come on, Stefan. Why not?"

"What the hell do I look like? I'm not a model."

"Sure you're a bit on the average height side…"

"You are one to talk. I'm two inches taller than you."

Damon dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "You have a slim build which is exactly what Penelope is looking for."

"I said no, Damon. I'm not strutting around in a cheetah print Speedo and baby oil."

He snickered. "The gig is paying a thousand bucks."

A needle scratched over a record. I was down on spare change and couldn't dip anymore into my savings than I already had. The extra thousand would come in handy since my plans for Memorial Day weekend were to hit up the beach. It's not a vacation if you're flat broke and no one else is footing the bill.

Still, I couldn't roll over on this. I hated being the center of attention, having people gawk at me. "Why don't you do it? You're moderately attractive."

"That is a lie. I'm devastatingly sexy as fuck and you know it. But I'm already helping out behind the scenes. I can't be in the show."

"Who the hell is Penelope anyways?" It never ceased to amaze me how quickly my brother moved. He had barely been in DC for a month and already had amassed friends who threw fashion shows, and who knew what the hell else.

Damon crunched an ice cube between his teeth. "I met her in New York a couple of years ago. We've kept in touch. She's cool, Stefan, you'd like her. She's not just into fashion, but music, theater and shit."

That was telling me oh so much. I scratched at the growing whiskers around my jaw. "When do you need an answer by?"

"Right now would be good. The show is tomorrow night."

"And you're just now asking me?!"

"Will you calm down? Did you miss the part where I said a model had to drop out? It was short notice which makes everything _else_ short notice. Are you in or not?" he penned with me with a glare. "Look at it this way…you'll have made yourself a thousand bucks for three, four hours of work, tops. You won't have to mingle with anyone and you can leave right after. Does that sweeten the deal any?"

No, not really. I thought about the work I had to do, the articles that needed placement within the upcoming issues, graphics and images that could help increase sales, sources that needed follow up, invoices that needed to be approved and paid. Somewhere in all of that came the look that took over Bonnie's face as she eyed my dick and the way it twitched in response.

I slapped my hands on the table. "Fine, sign me up."

Smiling victoriously because he got his way, Damon whipped out his phone, "Awesome. You'll have to head to her studio for a fitting."

"Well," I grumbled messing around with the silverware, "that's going to have to wait until I get off from work."

"That's fine. Penelope and friends are going to be burning the midnight oil anyways," Damon tucked his phone away after I'm assuming letting his fashion designer friend know I was in. "How are things at the homestead?"

"Kosher."

"I'll bet."

I sure as hell wasn't going to tell Damon about the turn things had taken with me and Bonnie.

"Stefan?"

Shit, I had forgotten about Phaedra being here. I said to her once she came into view, "I'm coming," to Damon, "I'll see you tonight, I guess."

"Work hard, play hard, Stefan."

* * *

Night had fallen though the sun refused to set. The day had come to an end but there was still one matter left I needed to take care of.

Growing up I used to do the easiest assignments first before tackling the ones that had me pulling out my hair and contemplating jumping out of a window. It was a stall tactic I hadn't grown out of and it was one I was going to apply once more.

I called Amber into my office.

This probably wasn't the best place to do this, but I didn't have time to head to her apartment to end things. A bar was never far in DC, but again there simply wasn't enough time to sit and shoot the shit before I took an I.E.D. to her future dreams of matrimony between the two of us. If I wanted to be poetic, things started in our place of business so hey, why not end it here.

I hope she didn't slap my ass with a lawsuit.

A light tap sounded and I bellowed for Amber to come inside. She did with that usual radiant smile that made you smile. The scent of her perfume immediately dominated every square foot of space in my office, which let me know she had freshened up before coming to see me.

"Hey," Amber rounded my desk and came to stand beside me at the window.

"Hey."

Amber really was beautiful. She didn't remind me of any particular Hollywood actress, but her attributes were so common you could see someone like her a hundred times a day. A dime a dozen.

"I'm sorry to do this here… but there's no easy way for me to say this…I can't see you anymore, Amber."

The smile on her face caved like a sinkhole. "What?"

"You're a lovely person…any guy would be lucky to have you…"

Amber lifted a hand effectively cutting off my speech. "Are you seriously breaking up with me in _your office_ right now? Stefan, what the hell? Where is this coming from all of a sudden? I thought things were great between us. I mean, that's what _you_ led me to believe. Are you seeing someone else?"

Technically, yes and no. I saw Bonnie every day because I lived with her, but it wasn't until last night my curiosity had grown. See if she and I could be something more than friends. I, of course, was going to say none of that to Amber.

My throat grew dry. "I'm sorry if I led you to think you and I could have something. When this started I never made any promises."

Amber scoffed and rolled her blue eyes. "No, we weren't pre-contracted," gotta love that ancient European sarcasm. "Yet you never said that you were going to see other people while dating me. I can't believe this! I've been good to you. Haven't I?"

Arguably, yes Amber had been good to me. But I just needed…more. I gently took her by the arms. "You're a wonderful woman. I just don't think I'm the guy for you."

She wrestled out of my hold. "That's nonsense, Stefan. I enjoy being with you. Shit, sometimes I have to tell myself to back off, not come on too strong, demand too much of your time out of fear you'll run away. Ha," Amber threw her hands up in the air. "The irony. All of that caution and holding myself back for what?"

"Amber…"

"What did I do?"

"It was nothing you did."

"Okay," she began pacing, "so if it's nothing I did, then what was it I _should_ have done?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Chemistry…our chemistry isn't where I thought it would be by this point."

Amber gaped, open mouth. "You didn't seem to have a problem with our chemistry," yeah she used air quotation marks, "when you motoboated my tits the other day."

I folded my top lip under my teeth. "Sexual chemistry can only last for so long."

"So you're not sexually attracted to me anymore, is that it? Pig," she sniffed and looked ready to slap me.

"Amber…" I retorted firmly.

"Don't do this. Please," her anger wilted. "If you need time to figure out what you want, then I'll give you that time. Just don't throw away the time we've spent together. Okay."

My head moved from side to side. "Amber, I'm not going to sideline you. That's not fair and you deserve better. You should be with someone who wants what you want in the long run. My thoughts on this won't change."

I wish I could say she accepted my decision and left. Nope. We talked in circles for fifteen minutes while I dodged the precise reason I was leaving her by the wayside. At the end Amber stormed out, retribution shining in her eyes.

Perfect. Maybe I should confer with legal and see what my options were. I didn't need blinking lights to know uneven pavement and bumps were ahead.

* * *

By the time I made it home after the fitting which was more intrusive than a doctor's visit, in my mind I had everything planned out. Unwind, unload, relax, destress, and maybe if Bonnie was feeling in a generous mood she'd let me taste her luscious lips.

Only there was a problem.

Jared fucking Malone. He sat on _my_ couch, drinking _my_ beer, sitting next to _my_ girl—er roommate. My knuckles popped and I told my jaw to relax.

"Hey, Stefan," Bonnie drawled. From her partially slurred speech she had been knocking them back. Then again, Bonnie couldn't drink a toddler under the table.

"Sup," I addressed her and then glared at Jared. "Hey, man. Surprised to see you here."

Jared shrugged his GI Joe shoulders. "I was in the neighborhood, figured I say hello," he swung his head toward Bonnie, "Hello."

She giggled.

Nostrils flared, chest out, I sauntered into my castle and tossed my keys with more force than necessary on the table. I quickly catalogued things. Besides the bottle in Jared's hand there was only one bottle of brew on the table. Nothing else seemed out of place. There wasn't an incriminating box of condoms lying around and, discreetly sniffing, I didn't smell a trace of sex.

"How was your day?" Bonnie stretched her arms above her head. Jared watched her. I watched him watching.

"It was all right. Can I talk to you for a second? You don't mind if I steal her away, do you, Jared?"

"Not at all."

I said nothing as Jared took Bonnie by the hand and helped her off the sofa.

My lush of a roomie stomped in front of me. I pulled her into my bedroom once we were out of earshot.

"What is he doing here, Bonnie?"

"He just stopped by. Like he said. We weren't doing anything."

Yeah I saw that but I also saw the convenience of the situation. What were the odds of Jared randomly showing up at our place the same day I broke up with his BFF? He was either here to speak on Amber's behalf to convince me to take her back, or he was here spying to have a suspicion of hers confirmed that a lot more was going on with Bonnie and I. At this point I wouldn't be shocked by either variable.

He needed to go.

"What do you want from him?" I asked.

Bonnie opened and closed her mouth several times and said, "Before last night I wanted to take things slow."

"Now?" I bit out tersely.

"I think you should know what I want. Did I not prove to you by my actions?"

I gulped as Bonnie sauntered closer. She tilted her head just so affording me the chance to stare at her kissable neck, peek into her delectable cleavage. I couldn't even name the sorcery she was working on me at present, and honestly I didn't give a damn.

"He's good people, Stefan," her slender hand came into contact with my chest. "I can see us being friends."

I laughed tiredly at that. "That dude does not want to go shopping with you and hold your purse while you try things on." I paused. "I broke things off with Amber."

Bonnie gripped the collar of my shirt. "How'd she take it?"

I squinted. "How does anyone take being dumped? Like her world was ending."

"How do you feel about it, Stefan?"

"Relief."

Bonnie studied me carefully, dissecting me from forehead to chin. "I really do like Jared, as a friend," she hastily tacked on. Now both of her hands were on me. Damn, she was warm, inviting. "I can keep the two separate."

"Maybe you can but I doubt he would be able to."

That notorious Mona Lisa smile crossed her face. What was she thinking? "People can surprise you, Stefan. Not everything is as deep as it looks."

Bonnie slipped away but I nabbed her before she could slink out the door. I pushed her up against it. She inhaled sharply and I made damn sure she felt how solid I was behind my zipper.

Bonnie moaned, wound her arms around my neck. Just like that I didn't care Jared was in the other room. He could be listening. In fact I wanted him to hear the noises I could inspire out of Bonnie. Little else was more gratifying to the ego to know you got one up on someone you deemed the enemy.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie whispered.

Fisting her hair was my answer. I didn't kiss her because that's what she wanted. I licked the dip beneath her bottom lip before trapping said lip between my teeth. I let go and breathed right into her ear:

"While you're out there entertaining him, I'll be in here making myself come."

Bonnie whimpered.

I opened the door and gently pushed her into the hallway.

"Wait, Stefan…wait."

"If you want to watch, get rid of him."

I closed the door in her face. Evil? Yes. Did I care? No.

 **A/N: See, the angst isn't totally gone. In fact, it might just be starting. Please, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you for the reviews for last chapter!**

* * *

|| **Bonnie** ||

Over ice, pour six parts of orange juice and three parts tequila. Add one part grenadine syrup last as it will sink to the bottom. Garnish with a cherry and orange slice and its bottoms up.

Tequila Sunrise. That's what I was thinking about instead of what was being discussed in the editor's meeting. Ever have your mouth so ready for something you could not only taste it, but smell it, could roll around its imaginary substance on your parched tongue? I stifled a moan as the phantom taste bloomed and rushed down to my belly. I squeezed my thighs together as I thought of the goosebumps that drink would bring if I were to sip it right this second.

Hmm.

I sat up straighter realizing, almost belatedly, I was in full view of the public, and if my coworkers weren't looking at me strangely now they would in a few seconds.

Thankfully, the vice president of the division concluded the meeting by leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms that he then folded behind his head. He was fairly new. Nathan Meyer. Had been on the job for six months, and though he told bad jokes and needed to work on his finesse and charisma, it was hilarious how he bent over backwards to ingratiate himself to Linda Park. Linda had applied for the position, and despite her five years' experience as Deputy Editor, her degree and awards she was passed over. Good ole white male privilege was still very much a thing, even with my so-called liberal and progressive magazine.

Every time Linda's eyes narrowed at Nathan (who was completely oblivious), I imagined she had thought of a new, untraceable way to kill him.

As the rest of us literary miscreants muddled to the door, I counted down in my head. Five, ten, fifteen…

"Hey, Linda can you hang back a sec? I want to get your opinion on something."

Wow, he broke his record and went a full twenty seconds without asking for Linda's opinion, which was code for her idea that he would then pretend he was the brains behind when he and Linda met with our president, Melanie Breneton to go over the issue before it went to print.

I hit Linda with a sympathetic glance she acknowledged by the subtle movement of an eye roll.

"Sure, Nathan," I heard Linda say.

The assembly walked down the carpeted aisle, talking and gossiping, some parting for the break room. Others to the elevator for a smoke. A couple to the restroom, and those remaining, we trudged to our offices or cubes.

This morning I had been working with one of the magazine's interns combing through letters that our readers submitted for publication. The public forum as it was called. Once a month a real-life horror or love story was selected in which I gave feedback on the situation. It was honestly one of the few times there was a bump in online traffic, and I had been pressing Malta, the managing editor to make this a more frequent staple.

"We'll see," was the typical standard response I received whenever I brought it up.

Simone looked up from the pile of mail in her lap. She was twenty, a rising senior at Howard and has the cutest baby face, which she detested. People always mistook her older sister for her mother when they were out and about. She wore her auburn locks in a bun, gray skinny jeans. The collar of her white Oxford shirt flipped up fashionably.

In an office of sixty personnel, Simone and I were two of eleven black women, and we black ladies were two-thirds the percentage of overall women of color. We thought our numbers would change with a new VP, but so far Nathan hadn't fired or hired anyone. Though we figured the day would come. One of his buddies from his previous company or a college friend would come a callin'. Then little by little the bait and swap would commence.

"Found anything good?" I sailed into my office, voice catching Simone off guard.

"I have potentials," she indicated two piles with what looked like maybe fifty letters in each stack.

"Trim what you have to thirty and then trim that down to fifteen," I grabbed a stack out of the post office bin, settled behind my desk.

Running the letter opener under an envelopes flap, I pulled out the next would-be potential skimming through the accolades and how much the responder loved the magazine. The letter went on to talk about how being featured on the Kiss Cam at a Capitols game resparked a couple's romance.

Another hour passed and stories were beginning to blend together. Simone's arm shot up as she waved a letter around. "I may have found a winner," she passed it on to me.

Antsy was the best way to describe Simone as she waited for me to finish reading. The detailed account of falling for the absolute _wrong_ , not worst but wrong person I couldn't lie and say didn't pique my interest, but it was risqué.

I looked up at Simone, who had arched her brows in anticipation of my ruling.

"We should print that," had been her vote.

"I can hear Malta now saying 'this isn't Penthouse'," I mocked in a high falsetto.

Simone stifled a laugh, "Maybe with some creative editing."

The idea was dicey, juicy, but dicey all the same. Still I shook my head. "Our readers are mostly progressive conservatives if such a thing exists. Those on the tail end of the baby boomer generation, split with millennials. The older demographic would be up in arms, and the only feathers Malta and Nathan are interested in ruffling are those of our competitors."

"Yet you, Miss Bennett talk about sex all the time. I'm not seeing the difference."

"It's buried under context. People like sex just fine. Our base has a problem if the sex they're reading about is better than what they're having."

My office phone chose that moment to ring. I recognized the number and couldn't fight my smile with a pair of weighted gloves. I picked up the receiver, "Hey, hold on a sec," then directed to Simone, "Simone, could you run out and get us some Starbucks?" I rifled through my purse and handed her a $20.

"Sure thing. You want your usual?"

"That's fine. Thanks."

Simone headed out and I put the receiver up to my ear, "Hey"

"Hey."

His voice was like sipping sweet red vermouth by itself. Rich. Resonate. A voice I'd heard a million times before, but everything becomes different when things stop being strictly platonic.

"Busy?" Stefan inquired.

"A little. What about you?"

"I haven't been able to get much done as events from last night keep rudely interrupting my day."

"I wish I could say I feel bad for you, but I don't."

"Witch."

I smiled, "That's the only way I know how to be, Stefan."

"Is that right?"

"Yep."

One minute. That's how long it had taken to shuffle Jared out of the apartment last night. The excuse of Stefan not feeling well tumbling from lips that were growing exceedingly dry while my mouth and other parts grew exponentially wet. And it wasn't an outright lie. After a time, hard-on's could begin to hurt much in the same way a clitoris could when too stimulated. The feeling like a little mini-hammer pounding hypersensitive flesh. I couldn't have my roommate in pain now could I?

Stefan had changed into his sweats, chest and feet bare. He had been seated up against his headboard, hands resting in his lap, legs crossed at the ankle.

I watched him as he watched me. My gaze dipped to his chest rising and falling, washboard stomach contracting and relaxing, the veins in his arms convalescing to his hands, to his fingers. Fingers that were hiding what I most wanted to see.

The darkening of his irises, the hardening of his jaw, Stefan was all careful control.

My feet brought me to the bed where I mounted it.

Were we really about to do this? Was I really going to watch him jack off? It's one thing to dream, wish, and fantasize, and quite another to actually receive. There was a tiny part of me that thought things were unfurling too quickly, that we were missing some very important steps, that this wasn't natural. That we shouldn't be doing this. Had I, in my own way, pressured Stefan to feel what I felt, _or_ had he been struggling with his attraction the same as I? Was he at all bothered by the fact we had been friends for years, and now we were sharing intimacies? Did he care?

With change came the fear of uncertainty.

"Wait," I burst when Stefan reached for this sweats. "Are you okay…doing this with me here?"

"Are you okay? You look nervous."

"I am."

"I don't have to do this, Bon. We don't have to do this."

What did he mean by that? _This_ as in what he was about to do or _this_ as in seeing where things could go? The confusion was etch-a-sketched across my brow. Stefan translated it flawlessly.

"Bon, I know I just ended things with Amber tonight, but you know I hadn't been feeling her for a while. We're trying something here, me and you, and yeah it's scary as hell, but I'm not scared of it, if you know what I mean."

I did get his meaning. There were few times when I didn't understand Stefan. "Well, if you don't find this too sudden or weird…"

Stefan looked a little hesitant and uncomfortable but it was brief. "Why do you always smell so good?" he said randomly.

I rolled my eyes. "I bathe."

"I feel like we're losing the moment."

"Then concentrate. Pretend…pretend I'm not here but that you want me to watch you."

Bemused, Stefan shook his head. "That seems so backwards because you _are_ sitting here."

"Are you starting to get performance anxiety?"

"Shut up," he pinched my knee, and like the flip of a switch Stefan grew serious.

He stared at me a moment longer, roaming, stopping pointedly at my breasts before ogling my thighs and the tight space between them. Stefan uncrossed his legs and pulled at the knot holding his sweats in place. I gulped. The waistband dipped lower, exposing that V-line. Stefan lied down and in doing so brought his erection closer to where I sat giving me a bird's eye view. He slipped his right hand into his pants.

I bit a corner of my lip at his first throaty groan. I'm sure it felt amazing. Touching his cock; and it would feel even better if I were to do this for him. I wouldn't though. I just wanted to watch, learn how he liked to get himself off.

Stefan stroked a few times before brandishing his vein-lined dick. Swollen, reddish-purple bulbous head that beaded clear pearls of precum. Thick across, nice length sure to fill you up just enough to cause some slight discomfort until you adjusted. He rubbed his slit and spread his precum around the head and down as much of his shaft as he could cover. His lashes feathered until his lids were closed and Stefan fucked his fist.

His hips rose, back arched with each stroke and squeeze right under the hood; he alternated between cupping his balls and tweaking his nipples. I could hardly sit still, too enraptured, too horny that I nearly stuck a hand down my pants to diddle myself and come with him. I wouldn't even last long, I knew this as sensitive as I was. I've seen men who had no technique whatsoever. Just rapid up and down fisting until it was over, while others took the scenic route to an orgasm or switched between the two. Some focused only exclusively on the head of their pricks. Stefan did what felt good to him, but he was in no rush.

He slowed down, lids half-lidded, "Can you hand me the lube? It's in my bathroom."

I had something better. Spit.

Stefan hissed when I leaned over him and let my saliva drizzle his sausage. "Oh…god that feels so good…"

I was so close I could take him in my mouth. Didn't. When he groaned again I knew it was one of disappointment.

I touched his chest, his neck as he resumed stroking. I lied down beside him and between kissing his neck and snatching glimpses of what he was doing, his lips pulled back from his teeth. Sweat dotted his hairline, heat rose from his skin. His chest and throat was salmon pink. Stefan was getting close.

Right up against his ear, I whispered what would send him over the edge, "Stefan. Come in me."

"…ah _fuck_..."

An impressive load spurted from his cockhead while a strangled moan wrenched from his diaphragm. Stefan shuddered and shook, laughed tiredly, and squeezed his eyes shut as he languidly drained every drop of cum out.

Stefan blinked up at the ceiling coming down from his _la petite mort_ , skin cooling, member softening though it seemed determined to stay rigid.

What a way to end the night.

"Bonnie? You still there?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I was saying that I wanted to get a conversation in because tonight is going to be crazy. I still can't believe I fuckin' agreed to do this. I blame the heat."

I smothered my laughter as best I could but then thought why censor myself. It was Stefan, and just because we entered into a new arena didn't mean we became different people. He was still my best friend. That meant I had to give him a hard time.

"Poor little Zoolander," I teased.

"Shut up. Bon, I expected empathy, not giggles."

"Come on, even you can find the humor in this. But you'll do fine. You're not walking in ten inch heels across marble or ice. It'll be painless."

Stefan grumbled some more.

"Just think, in a few more days we'll be at the beach and this'll be nothing more than a distant memory. And…should I tell you I have a thing for male models?"

I could literally see Stefan perk up. "You do?"

"Un-hun. Give me a reason not to look at any other model there, Stefan. Give me a reason not to fantasize about taking one of them home with me, or…sucking them off backstage. Though I much rather keep that in-house if you know what I mean."

"Dammit. I have a meeting in five minutes. I can't go in there with an erection."

"Then I guess you better drop some ice cubes down there, buddy."

"You're evil."

"And you keep my panties wet."

"Fuck."

I needed to end this before I really had to take a trip to the bathroom. "I'll see you tonight, Stef. Have fun in your meeting."

Hanging up, I bit into the base of my pen, smirking.

* * *

Another work day under my belt, the city didn't conspire to have me running late as my train arrived on time. Packed as all get out it was standing room only. Barely. We stood ass to crotch like imported booze. So long as no one tried to grope me I could grin and bear the ride.

I had just enough time to eat a light dinner, shower, and waste the rest of the hour and some change before the show started on deciding what to wear.

Suhad knocked on the bathroom doorframe dragging me out of my musings.

"You almost ready? We don't want to be late."

"I'll be done in five minutes."

Suhad and her beau Hamun would be my dates for the night. Damon had been nice enough to leave our names on the VIP list so we shouldn't have any trouble getting into the venue.

Suhad attired in a lacy cranberry sheath was all long brown legs and curly hair parted down the middle making her the quintessence of slay. Hamun wore a button down that matched her dress. Black trousers and Gucci loafers finished his ensemble. His shoulder length mahogany locks, while not perfectly brushed, were beautifully finger combed. The patch of hair on the bottom of his chin and mustache were sharply trimmed. They were a striking pair.

Hamun let out a low whistle when I emerged. I twisted from side to side showing off my flowing high waist skirt and long sleeve crop top.

"You look cute. Can we go now?" Suhad tried to rush me.

Grabbing my purse, we hit the curb and rode the metro getting off at Waterfront.

It had rained during the brief period I left work and made it home. The air was moist and humid like a sauna. What was missing was the aroma of foamy earth if we were out in the 'burbs. The pavement had been hot enough that curls of steam rose lazily, and every wet surface shined and glistened.

The three of us made our way to a three-story clothing store nestled between a Cosi restaurant and an independent bookstore. There was no red carpet or press, which wasn't unusual. DC being a political town, the only time celebs descended in droves was for: a march, headlining concerts at the Verizon Center, correspondent and state dinners at the White House.

Up three flights of steps, bypassing the clothing store which was closed for the night, we were emptied into a large industrial space painted white. It was freezing. There was no traditional runway or stadium seating. We'd all be standing from the looks of it. I did notice there were four raised platforms spaced in an arch in the center of the room.

Luckily there was an open bar, DJ, and a few critics. They were easy to spot amid those who dressed with no intention of leaving this event empty-handed. The buzz simmered like heat trapped below soil. Men and women sized one another up, judged, critiqued, laughed behind fingers and phones, leaned into and away from those they conversed with. The mating game.

"I still can't believe Stefan Salvatore is gonna be in a fashion show," Suhad remarked after we nabbed flutes of champagne.

"Neither can I."

Hamun asked, "What's the name of the designer again?"

"Penelope something," I replied. "I half listen to Damon when he talks to me."

Suhad snickered.

"And he's only been in town for a few weeks?" Hamun questioned.

"Yep, he moves fast. He's always sticking his nose and other things into something."

"Speaking of something to do," a familiar look came into Suhad's dark brown eyes, "how's that new guy you've been seeing?"

My stomach, for some strange and annoying reason, decided to knot with a sensation akin to guilt. I disregarded it, scolded myself for being ridiculous.

To stall I strolled from the spot we had been standing in. Suhad followed. Hamun did at a slower pace. He pulled out his phone knowing the two of us were gearing up to forget his existence at least until the show started.

Walking side by side, our voices a conspiratorial whisper, I filled Suhad in on the developments with Jared. How I liked him but now might not be the right time to start a relationship. I didn't expressly say I left him in the dust for Stefan, and perhaps I wouldn't need to make that clear. Suhad was perceptive which came in handy during certain situations. Particularly those that didn't involve my drama.

I waited for her admonishment that I didn't give Jared a fair enough chance. She merely finished off her champagne and licked the corner of her lips.

"You have nothing to say?" I said.

Suhad shrugged and glanced around. "What do you want me to say? You've obliviously made up your mind. I'm just ticked I didn't get to meet him. He sounded like cool people."

"He is a cool person."

"So why did you list a litany of excuses as to _why_ only being friends is the right course to take? I know you really liked him or wanted to fu—get to know him on a more personal level," she cleared her throat.

Shaking my head I didn't want to talk about this. "It's complicated."

"Most things are when you're involved."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Suhad shrugged again and plopped her glass on a nearby table. "You're Bonnie Bennett. Your mind rarely changes on things, and when it does it typically means something."

All right, she had me there.

The lights flickered signaling the start of the show. There was a hoot, some whistles, a holler. Applause. Music began blaring from speakers, and an unseen woman greeted the crowd thanking everyone for coming out.

I turned to trail the flow of the crowd that started funneling toward the center of the room, but Suhad lightly touched my elbow. I waited for her to speak.

"Whatever you're about to do…I just want you to do it with integrity and be happy. Be careful. We think we want something," and just then and maybe even unbeknownst to her Suhad focused on Hamun, "we get it and find out sometimes it's not what it's cracked up to be. That it's a lot more work than it should be."

"Suhad…are you and…"

She blinked out of it. "Girl, I'm sorry," she laughed but it was forced as hell. "Just…never mind. Come on, let's get a good place to stand. I can't believe we have to stand up. They couldn't afford chairs?"

Snickering, we grabbed Hamun and settled to the far left of the venue. The designer, an average height and size woman who might be European or perhaps from Texas for all I knew came out in all black. She looked tired but excited and explained the theme of her collection: post-Apocalyptic Americana meets London finance district. This was going to be interesting to say the least.

We clapped as she disappeared behind the scenes. Strobe lights flashed and a spotlight zeroed on the far back wall where the first model appeared.

One after another they walked. These male models weren't as tall as I thought they'd be and were a lot skinnier as well. Waifs with enough musculature to hint at their strength and that they ate some semblance of a balanced diet. Maybe. Strong bone structure, eyes that looked dead and bleak. Occasionally they was one who shattered that mold, looking lively and engaged.

Stefan finally made his entrance and I had to pinch my lips to stop from screaming like a fangirl. The track spinning was "Find What You're Looking For" by Olivia O'Brien, and the slow beat suggested Stefan was going to strip out of that thick leather coat with the exaggerated fur collar. He was shirtless and, yes, his torso glistened with the lightest film of baby oil. The army green pants he wore were baggy around the groin but tapered into a tighter, near skinny jean fit from his knees on down. Suspenders clipped to the waist, hung to his sides. On his feet was a pair of battered combat boots.

He walked his Stefan walk down the center of the room. Unhurried, unself-conscious and came to stand on the platform almost in front of me. He stared straight ahead, but he did look down. Our gazes connected and my Kegel muscles contracted, scorched since the way the light struck Stefan, it made his eyes seem deep-set, foreboding.

That muscle in the corner of his jaw flexed rapidly before relaxing, the only sign Stefan was combating the urge to smile. He stuck a hand in the pocket of his pants, which made the waist dip lower, showing just a hint of the top of his ass. I sucked in a breath I hoped wasn't audible. He turned on the block to the left and right, stepped down, and repeated the process until he had stood on each raised platform.

He looked just as good from the back as the front as he made his way to the dressing room.

"Here," Suhad handed me a napkin.

"Ha, ha. I'm not drooling."

"Really? Because I see something dribbling from the corner of your mouth."

Cute. Real, cute, Suhad.

* * *

My porn was a handsome man in a tailored suit. Clean-shaven or with a little scruff, or in a pair of jeans and a fitted T-shirt, a quiet yet uncowering swag that could back up what he said he's capable of doing. The pieces in Penelope's collection bolstered the ideal of masculine and feminine beauty intersected with vulnerability and grit. What she styled Stefan in caught more than the viewer's eye of where his physicality clashed with fabric, it showed not everyone was out of ideas yet. That there was still something in the unknown to be found.

Absentmindedly picking snatches of comments here and there about the collection, most speculating about the origins of fabric, what stitching was used, if she was inspired by some other designer from way back when, I thought of last night. I thought of tonight and what could happen.

And if I were to go by the look that came into Stefan's eye each time he stood there on that platform…tonight would be my turn.

As customary we held our applause until all the models took their final walk down the runway and the designer popped out at end, waving both hands. Belatedly it occurred to me I should have mentioned the show to my style editor, but since it was so last minute, and my thoughts centered elsewhere, well, shit fell through the cracks.

Suhad and Hamun abandoned me for the bathrooms. My girl could never hold her champagne.

Fingers brushed up my arm and I jerked away, scowl on the ready that flattened once I saw who the groping culprit was. Should have known.

Folding my arms, poking my hip out, "Damon," I said.

The naughty grin he delivered was as practiced as reciting lines. "BonBon. What d'you think?"

I nodded and relaxed my posture somewhat, still acutely aware of things around me, still impatiently waiting for my roommate. "It was a good show. Penelope has talent."

"And our boy?" Damon waggled his eyebrows.

"Stefan did a good job."

Damon didn't agree or disagree, but it was clear he was waiting for a more elaborate reaction from me, and I was very pleased not to give it to him. When it wasn't forthcoming, he let it go. "Let me introduce you to some people."

"I'm waiting for my friends and Stefan."

"Stefan probably won't be coming out for another twenty minutes or more. Last I saw, he was talking to a reporter, and I'm sure he wants to shower the oil off," Damon guffawed. "As for your friends, you can text them and let 'em know you're with me."

"You just have it all figured out, don't you?"

"Yes," Damon snapped his jaws together, then extended his arm. "Shall we?"

It was either go with Damon or stand around feeling stupid. I wrapped my arm around his.

As promised he led me around making platitudes and introductions with diplomacy. Not being overly complimentary and in his usual Damon flair, adding subtle shade. I had to give it to the veritable ass, he was funny. And again, I couldn't say I was surprised he knew most of the people in attendance. Damon was not a traditional people person, as in people liked his good nature, but knew him because he liked to force his way into your orbit.

Nevertheless, things happened so quickly I could barely tell anyone apart, but we did linger for a minute longer with a group of southeast Asian brothers, each tall and undeniably good looking. Two of the four eyed Damon like he was a sirloin steak and his cheeks grew rosier by the second.

The tallest and perhaps even the oldest eased his card toward Damon, his want clearly naked in his obsidian orbs. "In case you ever want to grab lunch or dinner. I can show you sides of DC you've probably yet to see."

Damon accepted the card and slipped it in his pocket with a wink. "I'll keep that in mind."

We eventually moved on.

He groaned a little and I stared up at him curiously. Damon looked down at me, eyes practically dilated. "What? I'm trying to be a good boy this year."

"Ha!" I barked in skepticism. Not to mention the fact the year was almost half over.

Damon snickered and for some reason began kissing my knuckles one by one. I tried to tug my hand away wondering why the hell he was being so damn touchy and affectionate. That wasn't our thing. Ever.

"What are you doing?"

"Sorry," he didn't sound sorry at all. "You just look so yummy."

"Yeah, I know," and the yumminess wasn't for him. "Let go of my hand."

Damon stopped kissing it but tucked it in the crook of his elbow instead.

Incredible. I redirected to a point he made that sounded so preposterous coming from him. "Why are you trying to be a good boy all of a sudden? Are you seeing someone?"

"Not exactly. I've come to the conclusion I haven't _not_ had sex since I started having sex. I guess you can say…I'm trying an experiment."

"A celibate experiment?"

Damon's nose scrunched as his eyebrows narrowed. From the way he was looking you would have thought I told him to get castrated. "I'm…abstaining from random hookups. I actually want to be…" his cheeks blazed hotter and he didn't say anymore.

Ooh, this was too precious. Damon Salvatore, bashful? Get the fuck out of here.

"Ohmygod, what is wrong with you?" It wouldn't be right of me to pass up this opportunity to embarrass his ass.

Damon actually looked startled, "What?"

"Are you…you're being coy. What is up with that?"

Now he looked annoyed. "As usual, judgey you're reading way too much in nothing."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yes."

Being I had a knack for this kind of thing, I was willing to bet half of my savings on the fact Damon was looking to be truly romanced though he'd rather have an eagle eat his liver everyday like Prometheus than admit that. What surprised me the most was how quickly after moving to DC Damon had grown an interest in settling down. Unless he's felt this way for a while, and living in fast-paced New York hindered his resolve to fully commit to finding that special person to be with. I've known Damon for a long time, but didn't really _know_ him. Not like I knew Stefan. And within the span of years Damon hadn't changed much. That could be admirable or a show of his stubbornness, hard to say.

I could tease him some more about wanting to star in his own rom-com, but then that would leave me open to his ribbing about how I wanted his brother.

Naturally thinking of Stefan would conjure him. Only, he was sandwiched between two women, both vying for his attention, touching him un-fucking necessarily. I could feel Damon giving me a sidelong glance.

"Let's go interrupt them," and he steered us toward Stefan before I could make any sound of protest.

I wouldn't have anyways.

"Hello, brother."

Stefan tried to unwedge himself once he spotted us, but one of his thirst buckets wasn't having it. He literally had to remove her hand from his shoulder. "Hey. Where have you two been?" Bluish-gray orbs dropped to Damon and mine's combined appendages. Lines encroached on Stefan's forehead.

I snorted.

"I've been keeping Bonnie company while you lived out your secret fantasy of setting up your very first…"

"Don't," Stefan cut him off, "even finish that sentence. It's been a long day and I'm ready to go."

"Not so fast, little brother. Who're your friends?"

The blonde thrust a hand and her boobs toward Damon, and from the lascivious way she groped him without touching she had already cast Stefan aside. "I'm…"

I tuned her out and merely stared at Stefan who shuffled closer, coming to stand right in front of me. A modicum of space was between us that could be easily eradicated if I stepped forward or he did.

Just as he opened his mouth, here came Suhad.

"There you guys are. Stefan, amazing job," my two BFF's hugged it out.

"Thanks."

Hamun congratulated Stefan though that was an awkward exchange. They weren't friends simply because Suhad and I were friends, weren't associates either, but were cordial albeit distant toward one another.

My roomie faced me once more as both his admirers had turned their full scale attack on Damon who lapped it up like cream. Though he was toying with them, if I were to believe his change in standards.

"How'd you like the show?" Stefan asked.

I waited for some form of contact but stubborn Stefan folded his arms. Why aren't you touching me?

"It was good. You were…impressive."

A slow, easy grin spread Stefan's lips. "Impressive?"

"Un-hun. Has the check been cut?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Good. That means we can get out of here."

Suhad chimed in, "Yeah, where are we going to celebrate?"

"I thought we were heading home?" Hamun formed the question as quietly as possible, but we still heard.

" _Hamun_ , we can hang for one drink at least."

"Yes, but it's getting late…"

"Late? It's barely nine o'clock!"

"That's not the point."

Couple spats were entertaining however cringe worthy when it involved your friends.

"Look, guys," Stefan stepped in to mediate. "It's not that big of a deal. I rather go home and let tonight fade into the background. We don't need to celebrate."

"No, it's been a minute since we've all hung out and I'm not ready to go home yet. I'm not 90," Suhad declared in a tone that told me she's had this argument with Hamun more than once. "Bonnie?"

"What? I mean, if Stefan and Hamun don't…"

"Wait," Hamun, though irritated didn't want to be labeled as the killjoy. "I don't want to be the reason we all head home early."

Damon interceded, "Hey, one drink, I'm buying and _no_ objections. Gotdamn, bicker like an old marry couple that's run out of Viagra later. Let's move. Ladies," he addressed the blonde and her friend who looked hopeful, "it was nice meeting you."

Hope crushed.

Hamun extended his hand to Suhad who reluctantly took it. Damon followed after him, his eyes probably volleying between ogling both of their asses.

Stefan and I were embarking on another bridge. Interesting how something so simple could become complex. Guilty as charged when it came to public displays of affection, Stefan and I were repeat offenders. But now the meaning had changed. There was nothing to it with friends. But we were friends _and_ …it was the "and" that defined the next plateau. Our friends (minus Damon) would think we were just being Stefan and Bonnie, and we could play that role. Or we could make another statement.

Stefan wrapped his arm around my waist, brushed the tip of his nose on the shell of my ear. "I know what you've been craving all day."

"Yeah and what's that?"

"A tequila sunrise."

I chuckled because he knew me too well.

A blurred form walked past my peripheral and I turned my head to look. For one solid, frozen second I could have sworn I saw…

"Bon?"

"What?"

"You see someone you know?"

I shook my head positive I was seeing things again, but that didn't account for why my heart was pounding and my hands suddenly grew clammy. As we neared the stairs, I looked one final time searching for a face that I prayed I hadn't actually caught a glimpse of.

Kai Parker.

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I say this all the time, but I still enjoy hearing what you guys think of these chapters. Was that Kai? Someone else? I'm on the fence about that myself. But if any have forgotten, Kai is Damon's ex (which yes, is weird). But anywho, the train must move on. Thanks again for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I hope no one has forgotten this. So sorry for the long wait. Life. Writer's block. You know how it is. Nevertheless, enjoy!**

* * *

 **||Bonnie||**

I sat on the edge of my bed and unbuckled the ankle strap to my heel. I didn't even bother to try to listen to the quiet footsteps walking around the apartment. I didn't even bother to try to close my bedroom door all the way and turn the lock as quietly as possible. I simply crossed my right leg over the left and leisurely snaked the strap out of the clasp and took off my shoe, wincing slightly.

A floorboard creaked. I paused. I'm numb just like my cold fingers that now trailed over my bare legs, my thighs, up my ribs, over my breasts, and landed on my neck where I squeezed just the tiniest bit.

The floor creaked again and I could feel him pause. The nerves under my skin— _they_ react. Tightening and making certain areas of my body peak and become swollen, turgid. Erect. Hard. I squeezed my thighs together, sighed, and began to work on removing my watch.

I stood from the bed. One strap of my dress fell off my shoulder exposing a bit more cleavage. The girls have been pressed and squished together in padded underwire, but not the least bit secure. If I had bent over too far at any point tonight they could have spilled out at any moment. I'm sure that would have made plenty happy and just as many unhappy.

That sensation you're being watched creeped along my skin, and my ears did try to detect any hint of movement or sound. It's a natural reaction. I couldn't control it but I didn't have to give it my hundred percent focus.

But as soon as that sensation came, it passed and the air has gone still again. It's nothing but illusion because I _knew_ I was not alone and I _knew_ precisely who was in my house.

Just beyond that door was another pulse beating in another body. A body twice the size of my own. A body that's slightly younger than I am. A body with a cock attached to it that I've seen its owner tug and massage until he came. I could feel that body on the other side of my door, shoulders subtly rising and lowering as his chest rose and fell with each breath. A body primed to beat, smash, crush any obstruction to pieces if it meant getting to me much faster.

I should be tired and ready for bed since it's been a long day. I should be ready to close my eyes and get some much needed sleep. I should be anything than what I am.

Fucking horny.

I turned from the door and reached for the zipper to my dress. I pulled it down and bit into my lip as its death grip loosened on my body. I sensed him holding his breath. I could feel the heat from his eyes as he spied on me through the crack in my door. I could taste the saliva on his tongue that he dragged across his bottom lip. I could smell his musky scent as the cool air in the apartment became humid. He's a tightly wound string, a dam with one too many cracks in it, live wires, a dick one stroke away from shooting cum, a bomb that's about to blow.

My dress lowered and caught on the hills of my breasts clinging to my fleshy mounds with a prayer. I didn't wear a bra tonight. One wasn't needed since the dress came with that kind of support built in.

Just a hint of nipple was visible as I began to work the material down my hips. The creak in the floorboards came again and just under that…a tortured moan. I shifted sideways offering a view of my body in profile.

That was enough.

The door burst open. I actually did let out a gasp of surprise as hands gripped my arms and I'm subsequently spun around and thrust on the bed. My hair flew all over the place obscuring my sight, but I blinked at the stands stabbing my eyes.

Bouncing on the mattress, breasts jiggling uncontrollably, I didn't have time to scramble to escape as he wedged his weight between my splayed thighs. My wrists were entrapped in his large hands and pinned to either side of my head. Every time he exhaled a hard breath, it tickled my nose and cheeks.

Shaking my hair out of the way, a lock covered my right eye. I glared at him with the left and noticed he's distracted. That's when I felt a draft. My entire left breast was exposed, my nipple dimpling into a hard bead. He stared at it. Stared to the point I believed he's slipped into a trance. His jaw twitched as he warred with his need to wrap his mouth around my nipple and flick it ceaselessly with his tongue. I want him to. I want him to suckle, nip, lash my pearl with his tongue. Get it wet, moist, and so sensitive I could barely stand it.

As he gazed with the kind of mindless wonder of a pubescent boy who's never seen tits in his life, he unconsciously or maybe even consciously ground his dick into my mound. His stomach kissed and retracted from mine with each breath that whistled between his clenched teeth. I felt each knotted ab, the steeliness of his thighs pressing on my own.

I would like to say I'm dry as a bone. Can't. My pussy was dripping. The tiniest friction sent a spike of arousal through me to the point my clit was as hard as a damn dick. Already my pus was contracting, seeking and searching for a big dick to draw in, moisten with cream, and squeeze like a fist.

I watched his throat work as he finally swallowed the saliva that's been threatening to ooze from the corners of his mouth.

I offered a teasing smile, "Cat got your tongue?"

Bluish-green irises volleyed between my nipple and eye. "Will the cat be able to handle my tongue is the better question."

Another flash of arousal spiked through me. I cleared my throat, not wanting him to know just exactly how affected I was. "Don't over promise and under deliver."

Placing most of his weight on his right forearm, he traced my chin with his left forefinger, "If I ever do, you'll let me have a redo, won't you?"

"Maybe. Depends on how generous I feel like being."

"Well, let me bolster my case by showing you how…detailed oriented I can be."

With a wink, Stefan Salvatore got off of me and the bed entirely. What came next wasn't exactly what our innuendo driven talk foreshadowed. Miffed, I sit forward, righted my clothes, and pouted as he began to do what he really came in my bedroom to do.

A wayward brick was the cause of my injury. We had been walking back from the bar and out of nowhere my poor toes ran into a brick that wasn't in alignment with the others, fucking up my stride and causing me to trip and stumble. That was the least of it. The sting raced up my leg and lodged all the way to the top of my cranium where I stifled a scream or at least I thought I had. Several people had slowed their stride to stare at the uncoordinated black chick. The only person to offer assistance was Stefan. When we both looked down to investigate how badly I may have been hurt, sure enough blood was pouring from between my two middle toes.

After a few minutes passed, I said, "You're taking too long. What are you doing down there?"

"Perfection takes time."

"Or you're suffering from performance anxiety," I grumbled lowly.

I felt the absence of Stefan's hands as he sat back on his haunches, neck reclining so he could glare at me. I shot him a glare in return though I felt it crumbling like bread crumbs as I fought off a smile.

"What was that?" he asked tersely.

"Nothing," I replied coyly.

He shook his head. "Nah, speak your mind, woman since you obviously have something you want to say."

"I didn't say anything about your skills. Now come on. Hurry up."

"Don't rush me."

"It shouldn't be taking this long."

A corner of his eye shrunk, "Do you want this done or want it done _right_?"

"Of course I want it done right."

Stefan said nothing else as he resumed providing medical care to my poor little toes.

Stefan patching me up reminded me of not long ago when he had the encounter on the metro platform trying to break a woman's fall that had been shoved aside, and he landed on some person's bike, scratching his ribs to hell.

This time we weren't in our cramped bathroom, fogging up the mirror with our body heat. And Stefan wasn't topless with drops of water rolling down his muscled back and chest. Such the pity. His adroit hands had scrubbed my wound, blowing on it to take away the sting of the hydrogen peroxide. Now he was applying the Band-Aid which was a bit tricky because of the placement of the cut.

"Well they're not exactly matching battle wounds," I murmured, admiring his handiwork. "But we've both been accosted on the mean streets of the district."

A corner of Stefan's mouth lifted. "Mine were from trying to be a hero…yours…from not watching where to step. Clumsy much," he quipped.

"Where's the compassion? That brick had it out for me and you know it."

Stefan rumbled a laugh and a moment later said, "Done."

"Thank you."

He nodded and raised my foot higher putting it in kissing range. His intent gaze never left mine as he kissed my toes.

Feeling his lips on me almost made me forget about whom it was I thought I had seen earlier tonight. It had been on the tip of my tongue for the last two hours to bring up my suspicions, but I swallowed those words back down. Damon, for the most part, was finally behaving responsibly, as if he had a purpose and was working toward it. The last thing I wanted to do was derail the strides he was trying to make in leaving his old life in New York behind him. But if Kai was lurking around, sooner or later he'd make his presence known. I felt the least I should do was warn Damon so he wouldn't be caught off guard, but…Damon might actually go seeking out Kai himself. And that wouldn't be a good thing. Just because someone was aware of their bad habits didn't mean they wouldn't engage in them.

Nevertheless, it was a good chance I didn't see Kai but someone who shared the same hair, eye, and skin color as him. Who was the same height and build and had an aura that screamed sociopath.

It wasn't terribly difficult for me to remain aloof and distracted at the bar Stefan, Damon, Suhad, Hamun, and I stumbled into. It was easy to lose myself into the bottom of many shot and cocktail glasses, and whine my hips to the sultry beats that poured from strategically placed speakers. It was nothing to sit squeezed into a U shaped booth with Stefan seated right next to me, his body heat singeing me from head to toe. To smell his body wash and cologne. To feel his thigh pressing into mine, snuggle into his side. So no. I hadn't given the possible Kai sighting a second thought. Until now.

Nevertheless, if anyone noticed there was a different vibe beating between Stefan and me they didn't say anything.

I wasn't exactly afraid of the new turn in our relationship being exposed. Everyone who knew us well enough probably figured we'd end up where we were today. It had only been a matter of time. I was still adjusting, but whether we moved fast or slow…I was going to enjoy the ride.

Running my fingers through his hair, I leaned forward and pecked his lips. Once, twice, a third time. He tasted of lime and tequila.

I stood from the bed. Stefan took a step back to give me a bit of room to move. "I know I said this already but you did real good tonight."

"I felt like an idiot."

"You didn't look like an idiot," my arms curved around him, fingers lacing together behind his neck.

Stefan wound one arm around my waist, and gently gripped my chin with his unoccupied thumb and forefinger. His stomach touched mine with each breath he took, and farther down below I felt him growing thick and heavy in his jeans.

"I never want to do that again," he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded.

"I don't think you're in any danger of having to quit your day job. But if you do and want to become the next David Gandy, you have it, Stefan. I'd be surprised if my panties were the only ones that weren't dry by the end of the night."

Stefan chuckled darkly, "It's only the state of _your_ panties that I care about."

"Good answer."

His head began to lower just as I rose on my toes to clear the distance separating us. I've been wanting this all night. Besides one stolen kiss when Stefan escorted me to the bathroom we hadn't really touched. Not the way my hands burned to do. Even as I danced a few times with Suhad and Stefan hung back watching me the whole time with a look that was blatantly sexual, I resisted the urge to climb on his lap or even better, his face. Delayed gratification an all that. We were alone now. No witnesses. No loud music. No drunken conversations. No impediments whatsoever.

My heartbeat changed tempo, speeding, blood pounding through veins that felt too small to contain the onslaught. Stefan, too, breathed louder. I could hear it as he brushed the tip of our noses together. I tilted my head just right, parted my lips just so, and sighed the moment a moist, hot mouth covered my lips. The pressure, the suction, the slow glide of his tongue into my mouth was _magnifique_. My boy was skilled. If his tongue was synonymous with what his dick could do, a bitch was about to be in trouble.

The absolute best kind.

Stefan moaned first. I followed. His hand traveled south and he grabbed a handful of ass. He was harder now that I really expected the crown of his cock to rip straight through his pants.

Moans became pants; the heat went up so high my skin was soon dewy with sweat. The seat of my panties was a virtual sauna, an oasis. _Drink from me, Stefan._

As if he heard it, Stefan lifted me up right underneath the crease of my ass. Still kissing. Still tasting the other's tongue. Half a step forward and we went down on the bed.

Things were smooth and calm and then a switch was flipped. Stefan and I fought for who would take off his shirt first and the fastest. You could call it a tie but the point of the matter, the shirt was off and flung to the far corner of my room. Kisses were dropped around my jaw, down my throat, Stefan nicked my collarbone.

"I still can't believe we're doing this," he trapped the strap of my dress between his teeth, peered up at me.

"You know, neither can I."

"You want to stop?"

I quirked my head as if I didn't understand the question. Stopping something I've wanted for a year and some change? He was crazy.

Grabbing him by the shoulders I rolled us over, planting Stefan on his back, straddling his lean hips. "We can stop when we're tired. Are you tired, Stefan?"

"No. No I'm not."

"Good."

And I proceeded to show him how _not_ tired I was.

* * *

Rays of sunlight roused me from sleep. In protest I curled tighter into a ball, pulling the covers over my head but it was no use. I was awake.

A gruff, "Good morning," further enticed me out from beneath that warm haven of blankets and sheets. Stefan gazed down at me, smiling wryly. Hair mussed, crust in the corner of his right eye he was still too handsome after a night of hard sleeping.

I partially covered my mouth so he wouldn't be assaulted with my morning breath. "Morning."

"Slept okay?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Someone kept punching me with her pointy elbows. But, I'm used to being assaulted."

With a roll of my eyes I propped myself up along the headboard.

As much as I wanted to loiter in bed, couldn't. My day was booked with a single activity: getting my hair braided. It was the official start of Memorial Day weekend. The roommate-cum-Netflix and Chill partner-cum friend with partial benefits and I were scheduled to hit the road for Ocean City, Maryland very early tomorrow morning to beat traffic. We wouldn't be making our way home until Tuesday.

Simultaneously our stomachs growled. Ordinarily that would have embarrassed me, but since it was Stefan and we proved to be more than comfortable with one another, we simply laughed.

Stefan rolled out of bed in his briefs to go wrangle us up some breakfast. I ogled his cute little ass cheeks as he ambled to the kitchen. When he was out of sight, I switched on the tube and channel surfed hoping to come across something decent to watch. I had about three hours to kill before my hair appointment. Normally it would take that long for me to get ready whenever I had to leave the apartment, but since I was only going to the salon, putting a lot of effort into my appearance was unnecessary.

Just a minute or two after Stefan darted out of my room, I heard a ping. Leaning over, I spotted my roommate's cell charging on the end table. A week or more ago I wouldn't have hesitated being nosy to see who it was, but now that our relationship added a layer of physicality, it would feel like an invasion of Stefan's privacy, an invasion of trust. I didn't want to be the girl who broke into her boyfriend's phone, trolled his social media accounts to see whose DMs he was sliding into. Then again, Stefan and I hadn't labeled what we were. Biting into my lower lip, I decided to ignore it. But if the person texted or called again, I'd do the friendly thing and let Stefan know.

Just a second later his phone pinged once more. This time I did look and frowned. It was Amber. I quickly read the text before the screen went black. She wanted him to call her so they could talk.

Of course Stefan would catch me with his phone. "What are you doing?"

"Amber texted you. She wants to talk." There wasn't any need for me to act like I wasn't snooping.

Stefan wore an indiscernible expression as he fully entered my bedroom plucking his device from my sticky fingers. Once he finished replying to her, I'm assuming, he placed his cell right where he left it.

"Is cereal okay for breakfast?" he asked.

"That's fine."

He left before I could ask if he told her to never contact him again. I knew him. Knew it took a while for him to quit people unless you did something truly unforgiveable. If you toed the line but didn't cross it, Stefan continued to lend you his ear and in dire situations his help, but his assistance was given grudgingly.

Yet I wondered how much of a problem Amber might become if she wasn't irrevocably nipped in the bud.

Resuming the hunt for mindless entertainment, naturally my phone would start ringing.

"Ugh," I cried not wanting to move from bed, yet recognizing the ringtone, if I ignored the call that would make the hole in which I already lived with the caller that much deeper.

Hauling out of bed, I grabbed my cell, stared at the screen still a bit indecisive but decided to get it over with. Bite the bullet.

"Good morning, dad."

"Ah, it's nice to know you remember you have one of those."

Being an educator wasn't the one thing my dear old father was good at. He was proficient in the art of guilt tripping.

Was I close with my parents? That depended on perspective. I respected them because without them I wouldn't be here. Rudy and Abbie Bennett were the kinds of people who believed your reputation would decide your future. I had little knowledge if they've ever gotten drunk, ran the streets as kids, disobeyed their parents, ever walked on the wrong side of the law, but they could be bores, anal, cold, and clinical about everything. Judgmental to high heaven, which yes, I admit, I inherited from them.

Once leaving home for college, I very rarely went home. It was…amusing how parents couldn't contain their giddiness of having an empty nest, yet the moment that wish was granted, they dedicated the rest of their lives to begging their children to come home.

"How've you been, dad?" I wedged my phone between shoulder and cheek and retook my spot in bed.

"Handling business as usual…missing my daughter wondering why she doesn't call or visit more often."

"I'm busy with work."

"You write fluff pieces for an online magazine that any person with a computer can do."

And there it was. His disdain for my profession, ignoring the fact that I did occasionally write for reputable and critically acclaimed news organizations. But that never really factored in until one of my weightier pieces went to print. Then my father would brag to anyone who'd listen about his baby girl writing for a prestigious paper or magazine.

"I have a busy day today, _father_ ," I countered hotly. He knew whenever I brought out the formal honorific that I was pissed. "Let's not launch into an argument that will result in me not calling or visiting for another month."

I was met with stark stubborn silence, but after a beat or two my dad sighed. "I don't want to argue with you either, and that's not why I called. I called to invite you to the barbeque we're having tomorrow. I'd really…I want you to come. Please."

Stefan returned with two bowls of cereal. He handed me one and carefully sat on the bed.

"Wish I could but I'm headed out of town. Sorry."

"Bonnie…"

"Don't get mad at me for not being able to make it when you're inviting me at the last minute."

"Well, we just decided to have one. You're our first invitee, but since you're going out of town, guess there's nothing to do about it."

Sure wasn't. I wouldn't be cancelling my plans to head to my folks place in Alexandria and fake like I was happy to be under their roof, eating their food while making small talk with their retinue of friends who blamed millennials for everything. No thanks.

However, my conscience got the better of me. I knew my father was trying, unfortunately his effort fell short. My mother, my relationship with her was marginally better. She at least listened to me when I brought a problem to her, but the advice she offered always came off as a sales pitch. Being a lobbyist, guess she couldn't help herself.

"Maybe," I paused to nibble my lip, "maybe we can have dinner one night next month."

"Okay," unsurprisingly my dad brightened. "We can do that. I do miss you, baby girl."

"Miss you, too. I'll give you a call in a couple of days to compare schedules, see what night will work best."

"All right. You still living with that boy?"

I suppressed a snicker and glanced at said boy who was stuffing his mouth with baked golden squares sprinkled with cinnamon. "Yeah, I'm still living with Stefan."

Rudy tutted in disapproval. Another thorn in our relationship, my living situation. "If you need some help, financially to get your own place, you know I'm here, Bonnie."

"Its fine, daddy. Stefan is…he hasn't crossed any boundaries."

Person in question leaned closer to speak lowly in my ear, "Not yet, but soon."

My womb clenched at the promise. Trading a few more pleasantries with daddy dearest, and sending my love to my mom, we ended the call.

"Everything all right?" Stefan questioned.

I nodded and dug into my food. "Daddy wants me to come home for a cookout."

"Hmm. It's been a while since you've seen your parents, hasn't it?"

"Give or take a month or so. The last time I went home for a visit they tried to ambush me with an impromptu date. A son of one of their friends was home for the weekend." I purposely looked grave, "It didn't end well."

Stefan snickered. "What was wrong with him?"

I thought back to that day. "Nothing on the surface, but you know how it is when you get a feeling about someone. Regardless it wouldn't have worked out anyways. Dude lives in Texas."

"What are you watching?" Stefan switched topics.

" _Boomerang._ "

"I've never seen it."

That didn't surprise me in the least. We ate and watched the movie, laughing accordingly.

"Have you ever encountered a Jacqueline?" I murmured without looking away from the movie.

Jacqueline was the sort of woman who didn't get emotional or rather didn't let her emotions control her after fucking a man. Behavior that would earn a man a handshake and praise, Jacqueline and women like her would be labeled a bitch. Jackie was in it for a good time, not a long time.

"Nah, can't say that I have. What about you? Dealt with any Marcus'?"

"I think you know the answer to that question quite well."

"Not exactly," Stefan disagreed. "We know a lot about each other. More than most friends probably know about people they consider friends. But there's the dating life you had before we even met that you haven't…expounded on."

We stared at each other. I broke eye contact first. Stayed quiet for a minute or two. "For a time I _was_ Jacqueline."

"Really? Do tell."

"Some other time. I need to get ready for my hair appointment."

Stefan placed his empty bowl on the end table, "Guess I'll see you tonight, then."

He already knew the deal. That I would be gone all day.

"Yep. Tonight."

* * *

 **||Stefan||**

A bottle of Veuve Clicquot landed bottoms up on grainy sand next to my feet. I inhaled deeply the sea-salty air and shivered a little against the frigid winds. It's a lot cooler than I expected but it's early yet. Discomfort aside, I smiled as I stared out at the choppy water.

Foam lapped damn near to my ankles enticing me to venture closer to the edge of the shore. The hard wet sand disappeared beneath the soles of my feet each time the water barreled forward. Water that was surprisingly warm given the temperature.

Three hours of traveling and we're finally here.

I had traveled to my share of beaches in my speck of a life. Dipped my hairy toes into the Mediterranean Sea, walked along the black sand beaches of the Canary Islands, dodged the multitude of washed up jellyfish of Myrtle Beach, etc., etc.

Would I consider myself a learned traveler? slightly. The spots I hit up on family getaways typically boasted ruins dating back to BC times, and in college it was always Cabo. The tradition to head to Ocean City started the year after me and my friends graduated college, and it's been going strong ever since.

Faces rotated, mostly those of the female persuasion. I had taken Valerie once in which she pretended she wasn't having the worst time of her life. The ex never hid what she thought about my friends. They were loud, they were crass; they were belligerent drunks. You know, the usual. They were beneath her as far as she was concerned, and if it wasn't just the two of us getting lost in the world, she'd inexplicably find something else to do.

That was fine with me. I enjoyed traveling with people but had no qualms doing it alone if I absolutely had to.

This year's different.

Riding with the windows down, seat pushed back, her feet propped up on the dashboard was the literal Bonnie to my Clyde. I lost count of the times I caught myself fixated on her little feet, those polished toes. My foot fetishism could rival Quentin Tarantino's.

Occasionally Bonnie pointed out something innocuous, capturing what she could on her phone before swinging that device in my direction.

"Are you documenting this?" I kept my eyes forward.

"Yes, Stefan. I've decide to do a whole Instagram stories series on this trip. Now smile, dammit. Show me those fangs."

At that brusque request I stared at her drolly.

Bonnie poked out her bottom lip. "Come on. Humor me. This weekend we're going to act like people in catalogs. We're going to look like people trying to sell trips to vineyards and horseback riding."

I laughed because seriously she was a trip. And it didn't escape me that Bonnie was one of the few people I knew who could get an honest laugh out of me.

"Ah, better," she said in approval. "You have ten seconds to tell people how excited you are about heading to Ocean City. Make them envy you, Stefan. Make. Them. Envy. _You_." Then she laughed like a Disney cartoon villain.

The dramatics. But I had a ready answer.

"Well in order to do that I would need you to turn the camera on yourself. Let people see who I'm hanging with. They'll be envious enough."

Bonnie lowered her phone, I could see that out my peripheral. When I chanced looking at her, needless to say she was pleased, hell maybe even touched.

"I hope your pull out game is as smooth as you are."

My brow furrowed, "What?"

"Nothing."

We spent the rest of the ride with Bonnie trying to get me to act like we were filming an episode of some teen drama between playing our own version of Finish that Tune in which I failed horribly to remember lyrics once the music was shut off. I thought we might lose this, the quirkiness of our friendship and that everything would be weighted and heavy as we figured out which step to take next. I didn't feel any kind of pressure to assume any roles, don any mask to convince her I was trustworthy enough to fuck. And honestly, it wasn't about that. You wouldn't believe me if I said sex was the last thing on my mind when it comes to Bonnie. Oh, it's there. It's never gone away, the need hasn't shrunk. It's only grown bigger but knowing she's as sexually attracted to me as I am to her, it's enough.

For now.

But it was more to it. Shit, I was fucking giddy because I had a friend I was truly myself with, and that more than anything was important. If I couldn't be myself around someone then what the hell was I doing around them?

At exactly 6:55 a.m. we arrived at my boy Eddie's timeshare. We hadn't gone inside since Bonnie was insistent we hit the beach first, have a bit of alone time before everyone else who had been invited showed up. She didn't have to twist my arm to get me to agree.

Looking east, I spotted her at it again. Recording, this time the Atlantic in front of us, panning to take in the numerous homes and businesses that lined the beach, adding her own colorful commentary, no doubt. Looking at her definitely had an effect on the area between my waist and knees. Watching her in her cutoff shorts and painted on tee, I forget about Amber blowing up my phone imploring me for just five minutes of my time. I forget about deadlines and my mother well on her way to marrying the biggest fucking twat I know. I forget about my temporary stint as a male model (the thousand bucks in my pocket notwithstanding); I just remember that moment on a couch in a northeast apartment that's changed everything.

Bonnie sashayed to my side. I could watch that woman walk for hours. The moment she was in hearing distance, I said to her:

"When we get back, I'm taking you out on a proper date."

Bonnie grinned, showing me all her teeth. "You are?"

"Yes. I want you to know what it feels like to be pursued by someone you want and who wants you. I'm not interested in playing any games, Bon. If that's what this is—"

"—it's not," she quickly refuted.

"Then it's settled. I'm taking you out. We're gonna have a good time, and it won't be weird."

"Why would it be weird? We've kissed. I've seen you jack off."—I can't help but bashfully look away—"You've fingered me, seen my nipple."

Hmm, nipple. Concentrate, Stefan.

"Yes, we've done those things," I concurred. "However, they occurred in the privacy of our home. We'll be taking things public. It could get weird."

"It won't because at the end of the day, we're still us. We're still Bonnie and Stefan. It won't be weird unless we make it weird."

"So we agree right now," I looked her dead in the eye, "it won't be weird."

"It won't be," she said with all the confidence in the world.

Grabbing Bonnie by the hem of her shirt, I pulled her closer. Her arms automatically wrapped around me, and normally she could tuck the crown of her head under my chin, but with her hair braided and placed into some kind of knot, well, she settled with resting her cheek on my shoulder. We observed the sun rising higher just like that. I'm on the cusp of asking her to be my girlfriend, but I could wait. Wait until our first date at least.

Nerves made me feel like I just came down with a mild case of ingestion. Wow. One day, the girl in my arms would be just that. My. Girl.

 **A/N: Thank you guys for reading, and definitely thank you for reviewing last chapter. How did we likely? I'm sorry Stefan's part was so short. I hope to make it up in the next update. Yea! It's just I want to get his voice right so he doesn't sound like Bonnie. Cool? Good.**

 **On another note, I would caution, for those who ship BK that mentions of Kai in this story won't result in me writing a future BK story or any shippy BK moments in this fic. That ship is not my cup of tea. So I hope anyone reading this story is reading for Stefonnie, they are priority. All right loves, thanks again for reading. Until next time.**


End file.
